


What Are the Odds

by LarasLandlockedBlues



Series: Lightning Struck [7]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempted Sexual Assault, Casual Sex, Cullen Rutherford Smut, Cullen Smut, Cullenlingus, Denial of Feelings, Dom Cullen Rutherford, Drunk Sex, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, From Sex to Love, In a later chapter, Kirkwall (Dragon Age), Light Angst, Light Dom/sub, Loss of Virginity, Loud Sex, Masturbation, Mild Hurt/Comfort, One Night Stands, POV Cullen Rutherford, Possessive Cullen Rutherford, Possessive Sex, Protective Cullen Rutherford, Sex for Protection, Shameless Smut, Smut, Virginity Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-02-22 19:40:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 53,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13173843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LarasLandlockedBlues/pseuds/LarasLandlockedBlues
Summary: A chance encounter at the Hanged Man for some stress relief leaves Knight-Commander Cullen with a few questions, and an insatiable desire for the mystery woman he met.





	1. Chapter 1

Cullen was trying to ignore the hole in the wall. His eyes kept wanting to wander to it, to stare at the damage and the evidence of what had happened only a month before. But he tried to keep his gaze focused on the tankard of ale in front of him.

He wanted a reprieve from the rebuilding, from the chaos and destruction. It had been a month of nonstop work, and he was finally feeling pushed to the limit. He needed to forget, just for one night.

He closed his eyes and pictured the red lyrium statue that had once been his Commander. He shook his head and caught the bartender's eye and motioned for another.

"You should probably slow down," a soft voice said beside him. "Unless you're just trying not to taste the swill they call ale here. In which case I don't blame you."

He looked down and saw a young woman standing beside him, but it took him a moment to focus his gaze on her. He'd had a bit more to drink than he was used to. When his eyes finally stopped blurring he let his gaze roam over her and his eyebrows rose.

She was the most beautiful thing he'd seen in ages.

Everything had been chaos and destruction recently, but now here stood a smiling young woman, looking like a breath of fresh air.

Cullen cleared his throat. "No, just - long day."

"I see," the corners of her mouth quirked up as she looked him over. "Want some company? It might make the ale taste better."

"Uh - certainly," he agreed. He cleared his throat again, trying to think of something to say. It had been months since he'd even thought about being with anyone, what with the Circle falling apart and Meredith's increasingly strict orders for the Templars and the mages.

He shook his head slightly and motioned to the bartender again to order her a drink. When the bartender set the ale in front of her she smiled. "Two whiskeys, as well please."

Cullen raised his eyebrows and she just continued to smile at him as she held up the small shot of whiskey as if saluting him. "I need to catch up, wouldn't you say?" And he watched as she downed one whiskey and then the other.

"I've never seen you in here before," he said, trying to make casual conversation.

"Do you come here that often, then?" She teased lightly.

He chuckled and drank more of his ale. "No, I guess not. I just meant - I haven't seen you around. And it's hard to believe I wouldn't have noticed you."

"Oooh, smooth talker," she purred. "But I bet you say that to all the girls."

"What? No, no, I just -" he stuttered, but she winked at him.

"It was a good line, don't ruin it," she giggled.

Her giggle was like music to his ears. He wanted to hear it again.

They began talking, about nothing of importance, both of them drinking their ale as they spoke. Soon they were ordering another round, and she was standing closer to him, almost leaning her arm against his.

It had been so long since he'd chatted someone up, since most of his experience had come from the Blooming Rose. The only conversation he made there was giving directions and commands; there was no wooing except the exchange of money.

But even when he felt like he'd blundered, she merely giggled and shoved him playfully with her shoulder.

They were drunk, and she was squeezing his bicep with her small hand. She made a comment on its size, and he was glad he'd changed out of his armor. She pressed against his chest, and he could feel her soft breasts through their clothes.

"Would you - I -" he began, unsure of how best to ask her.

She batted her eyelashes at him. "Want to get out of here?"

He nodded eagerly and drained his tankard before he grabbed her hand and led her from the Hanged Man. They hurried through the streets of Lowtown, stumbling a bit and laughing together. She tripped and he caught her against him, and suddenly he had her against the wall. His mouth was crushing against hers, his tongue darting into her mouth to find hers.

She tasted like whiskey, and she was responding with sloppy eagerness to his kiss. When she caught his bottom lip between her teeth and tugged it, he moaned and pressed his hips into her, grinding his erection against her.

"Where do you live?" She murmured against his lips.

"Not far," he answered, and he took her hand again and pulled her along behind him.

He didn't even think about whether anyone would see him bringing her into his quarters, he didn't think about whether or not he should. Instead all he could think about was getting her out of the top and breeches she was wearing.

Once they were inside his room he shoved her against the wall and she gasped, but he captured her lips with his again. He was eager to keep tasting her, to keep exploring her.

Her hands flew up to his shirt and began to tug it off of him, and he stepped back and lifted his arms to help. She stared at him for a moment, taking in his muscles and the scars he had.

"Maker you're a good-looking man," she told him.

He smirked at her and she almost purred when she saw the way he was looking at her.

"Take off your clothes," he told her, his tone slipping back into the commanding voice he used during the day, or at the Blooming Rose.

She almost looked like she hesitated for a moment, but then she gave him a sly grin and began to strip out of her clothes.

She looked even better than he'd imagined. He reached out and began to caress her, greedy and a little rough in his eagerness. She moaned as he palmed her breasts, and she leaned her head back against the wall, looking as if her knees were going weak.

He stepped forward and lifted her, and she wrapped her arms and legs around him. She kissed him, her mouth twisting against his as he carried her to his bed. He threw her on it and she giggled as she bounced. She lay grinning eagerly while she waited for him to remove his breeches and join her.

Once he had finally stripped he stretched himself over her, his hands dragging over every bit of flesh he could reach. He kissed her impatiently, and when he slipped his hand between her legs he felt that she was already wet and ready for him.

He groaned, unable to wait any longer. He positioned himself between her legs and thrust into her, sliding in in one slow fluid motion. She cried out, almost sounding surprised, and her nails dug into his back.

"Maker's breath, you're tight," he moaned, taking a moment to adjust to the feeling. But he didn't wait long before he started thrusting himself into her, and soon he picked up his pace as he tried to push deeper.

She was moaning and gasping, rolling her hips beneath him. Each of his thrusts into her caused a deep intake of breath in her throat, followed by a soft, whispered, " _yes_."

He was fucking her hard, and fast, as if he could work out all of the stress he'd been feeling through his movements within her. The headboard was slamming against the wall, echoing loudly through the room, accompanied by the sound of her crying out and his balls slapping against her.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned. He wanted to tell her how good she felt but suddenly he realized -

"Wait, what's your name?" He panted, slowing his thrusts for a moment.

"Ev - Evelyn," she answered. "Please - keep going, I think I'm almost there."

He didn't need to be told twice. He resumed his relentless pace, propping and steadying himself with his hands above her on the mattress. She dug her nails into his hips and her response to his thrusts picked up as she began to cry more incoherently.

"Yes - yes, I'm -" but she gave a loud cry almost like a scream as she arched her back and came undone.

"Fuck, Evelyn," he moaned and he gave a few more powerful thrusts and felt his balls tighten and his cock throb as he came within her. He slowed as he felt the shockwave of his pleasure course through him. He could still feel her clenching and tightening around him, and she was nearly whimpering as she finished.

He collapsed on top of her, their sweat mingling as they both panted and tried to catch their breath.

"Maker's breath, I've never - that was amazing," he told her.

She giggled and he flinched when he felt her muscles clench him again.

"Stay here tonight," he said sleepily. "I want to take you again in the morning."

"I suppose I could do that," she said slowly, as if considering.

He rolled off of her but he pulled her against him, holding her tight in his arms as if worried she'd try to leave. He felt like he couldn't get close enough to her.

Between the intense sex and the booze, he had no trouble falling asleep.

And for once, he didn't wake up from any nightmares, or sleep restlessly. Indeed, he got the best sleep he'd had in years.

When he woke up, it took him a moment to remember. He smiled when he did and rolled over, intending to make the most of how rested he felt. He wanted to take her from behind, he wanted to taste every inch of her, he wanted to feel her lips around his hard cock -

The bed was empty.

He sat up quickly and looked around, but she was nowhere in his small quarters. Her clothes were gone.

He bolted out of the bed and looked around, trying to find any hint about her. And then he noticed that his breeches were by the door and not the foot of the bed. Strange, he didn't remember them falling there.

He bent down and shifted them, and it only took him a moment to realize what was missing.

She'd taken his full coin purse.

With a growl he began to yank his clothes on, determined to try to chase her down. Surely she hadn't made it that far or left that long before, maybe if he went to the Hanged Man he'd find her.

A knock sounded on the door and he hurried to it and pulled it open as fast as he could.

Knight-Captain Rylen was standing there, and he took a moment to look Cullen up and down before he said, "Ser, is everything all right?"

Cullen hesitated for a moment, but then finally sighed. "I - yes, Rylen, what can I do for you?"

"It's late in the morning, I was just checking to make sure you were all right."

"Late night is all. I'll be with you shortly," Cullen said, trying to hide the irritation in his voice.

He shut the door in the other man's face and ran a hand over his face. He'd have to look for her later.

But he certainly intended to track her down, and it wasn't just because she had robbed him. He couldn't get her soft scent of rain out of his mind, couldn't stop thinking about how he'd felt inside her.

He had to find her again.


	2. Chapter 2

Fuck.

She couldn't believe she'd been so stupid or careless.

She should have recognized him, but seeing him out of his armor, drinking ale - he'd looked so different from how he normally did. He'd looked like a good mark, drinking troubles away, lonely and in need of company. He looked like an easy target.

But she hadn't expected him to be so charming, so endearingly awkward. She hadn't expected him to be such an amazing kisser.

That was the moment she'd thrown caution to the wind, she knew. Some of her previous marks had kissed her, but none had made her feel the way he had. She knew that was why she'd gone off her usual plan.

She hadn't slipped anything into his drink like normal, she hadn't escorted him home and put him off until he passed out drunk like every other time.

Instead he'd kissed her, he'd told her to take off her clothes - and Maker that _voice_ when he did. She wasn't sure she could have refused that voice anything.

But now she was having to deal with the consequences - and that was certainly putting a dent in the coin she'd stolen from him.

 _Well, that's the least his coin could do for me considering he didn't even ask before he finished in me_ , she thought.

It wasn't exactly how she'd imagined losing her virginity, but honestly she'd never wanted anyone like that before. She'd never actually seriously considered it until he'd kissed her.

And honestly, besides the expensive witherstalk she was currently downing, she only had one regret.

That she hadn't realized he was the fucking Knight-Commander.

She scrunched her nose at the taste of the witherstalk, but she felt relief as soon as she'd finished it. Hopefully it was as effective as others always claimed.

She sighed and set the vial down, looking around the small clinic she'd taken up residence in in Darktown. She had never meant to get stuck in Kirkwall, but her timing had been horrendous. It was the worst possible time for an apostate to arrive, and she'd gone into hiding in Darktown until she could find a way out of the city.

Until then, she'd have to keep stealing from men looking for an easy bedmate. And now, she supposed, she needed to avoid the Hanged Man for a while. She needed to avoid him.

She spread out the coin she had taken from him and counted it. She hoped that it would last her a while in case she couldn't find any more marks outside of the Hanged Man. She had a feeling if he wanted to find her that would be the first place he checked.

He'd been drunk enough she didn't think he'd noticed her eye color, but that was an incredibly lucky stroke. She still couldn't believe she'd been so stupid.

A young elven boy wandered into the clinic, interrupting her musings, and he was winded and looking around wildly.

"Are you the healer? My ma - she's sick. I need help! Please."

Evelyn opened her mouth, intending to refuse, to tell him she wasn't the healer, that he'd left. But she saw the desperate look in his eyes and she sighed.

"Take me to her, quickly," she said, and she followed the boy through Darktown and into Lowtown. She glanced around, looking over her shoulder, hoping against hope that _he_ wasn't in Lowtown. 

She thought she saw a glint of Templar armor ahead and she ducked behind a stall.

It wasn't him, but she told the boy leading her to hurry anyway. He led her to a hovel in the alienage, and she followed him inside. His mother was getting sick over the side of the bed inside, and Evelyn fought the urge to gag.

She walked forward after she'd steadied herself and began looking the other woman over. She wiped her forehead of sweat and checked her eyes, and noticed she had a fever and her breathing was shallow.

Evelyn sighed and closed her eyes, trying to bring the healing magic to her fingertips. She placed her fingers on the woman's temples, searching through the woman's body to feel for the illness.

Instead she detected another heartbeat.

"I - did you know you're with child?" Evelyn asked with mild surprise.

"I suspected as much," the woman murmured. "The last few times were like this as well."

Evelyn sighed. "Do you have any elfroot in the house?"

The woman shook her head weakly. Evelyn looked around, thinking. She clenched her eyes shut for a moment, realizing what she was going to have to give up to help. She turned to the young boy.

"If I give you coin, can you run to the herbalist and get what I need?" Evelyn asked.

The young boy nodded his head. Evelyn slowly pulled all of the coin she had out of her purse. It was everything she'd taken from _him_ , everything she was going to need for days. But this woman could die.

Evelyn made the boy repeat what she needed several times before she handed over the coin and sent him on his way. While she waited she made cool compresses and laid them on the woman's forehead. When the boy had returned, he handed her the herbs and only a few meager coins as change. She tried not to be too disappointed by the change in her fortune.

Instead she made up a potion and helped the woman drink it. She made enough to get the woman through the next few days, and left her with instructions.

"I'll be back to check on you then," Evelyn told her. "In the meantime you know where I'll be."

She left the hovel and made her way back to Darktown, trying not to focus on how the few coins jingled in her pocket. All they did was remind her of how they'd been used, of how she'd been unable to use any on what she needed. She'd need to find another mark if she wanted to eat more than deepstalker broth and bread...

Now that she needed to be more careful, though, she wasn't sure where she could easily find a target. The Blooming Rose was an option but required more caution than even the Hanged Man did.

She sighed and decided to take the night off. Broth and bread wasn't the worst fate, and she knew she needed to wait a day or two to try to find another mark. She didn't want to draw too much attention to herself.

She wished she hadn't blundered so horribly by jumping into bed with the Knight-Commander. It had thrown off too many of her plans, not to mention distracted her too much.

She lay awake that night, aware of how sore she still was. She hadn't had the nerve to tell him it was her first time, and it was clear he had assumed it wasn't from the way she had flirted with him. The soreness wasn't actually that bad. Instead what she noticed was an empty _ache_.

Like she wanted to be filled completely.

She lay awake remembering, recalling the way it had felt when he slid himself all the way into her. She remembered the way he had rubbed against her clit as he rolled his hips, the way he had kissed and caressed her as if he couldn't get enough of her. She decided it had to be because of the booze, because she had flirted and come on so strong. There was no way he actually felt anything more than desire for her.

But the memory of the way he'd fucked her kept her awake until she finally groaned and reached a hand down, slipping it under her smallclothes. She was wet, and she slid her excitement over herself as she closed her eyes and pictured the sight of him moving above her. The crooked grin he'd had when he particularly enjoyed the feel of her was burned into her memory. She felt herself getting closer as she pictured it.

She remembered too the look on his face when he'd asked her her name. She wished she hadn't been so caught up in the moment and had given him a fake name.

The way he'd sounded when he moaned her name as he came though - she'd remember that forever. She almost wished she could hear it again.

She almost wished she'd stayed for round two in the morning.

Instead she satisfied herself with the memory of him inside her as she sped up the motion of her finger - just there, just liked he'd done.

She cried out softly and her back arched as she came, picturing the way he'd grinned triumphantly as he watched her come the night before.

Why, of all people, did she have to fantasize about Kirkwall's Knight-Commander?

She was beginning to think she had the worst luck ever.

 That is, until she suddenly found a small line of paying customers outside the clinic the next morning. It seemed word had spread of the woman she had saved in the alienage, and she found that many of her new patients were willing to offer whatever payment they could. Some left her food, some herbs, some coin. Some offered their services in return for hers.

Suddenly, she wasn't so bad off as she continued to see patients over the next few days.

She just hoped that word didn't spread _too_ far.


	3. Chapter 3

So far, nothing.

Kirkwall wasn't so big that he couldn't find her within a few days. He was beginning to worry that she'd left the city. Even more worrying was the fact that he couldn't spare the resources to keep looking for her. The first two days he'd had Templars out looking for her, lying and telling them he suspected she was an apostate. He'd given them the best description he could from what he remembered. 

'Full lips, creamy, soft skin, and the most beautiful breasts you'd ever seen' hadn't quite been appropriate even if it was accurate. Instead he'd focused on her size and hair and eye color. Only he wasn't quite sure he accurately remembered her eye color. He knew they had been light, but otherwise he couldn't describe them.

Luckily none of the Templars pushed him for more accuracy. But by the end of two days they'd brought him women vaguely matching the description, too many who weren't her, and he was losing hope. He finally had to let the Templars get back to their work rebuilding the city and helping the people.

He tried his best to coordinate them, to do his part. But he was distracted, plagued by the scent and taste of her, the feeling of her around him. She'd been so tight, so wet and warm. He couldn't stop thinking about the way she'd responded so eagerly to him, the way she'd looked beneath him.

No one had ever responded like that to him moving within them, to him taking them. No one had ever come so hard or loudly because of him, and the image was burned into his mind.

Several times during the days that followed, he had to be snapped out of his thoughts by someone else. Several times he caught Rylen frowning at him as if concerned or baffled. His mind wasn't on his work at all.

Instead all he could think about was the sight of her pert, rosy nipples bouncing beneath him as he thrust into her.

He took to doing patrols again, pretending like he was evaluating the damage and progress being made on Kirkwall. Instead he was scanning crowds, trying to catch a glimpse of long midnight black hair. A few times he thought he saw her, and he rushed forward only to be disappointed that it was someone else.

He was back to not sleeping, and every time he tried to lay in his bed he caught her scent in his sheets. With a frustrated growl he'd get out of bed again and patrol the streets of Lowtown, poking his head into the Hanged Man to see if she was there again.

"Knight-Commander did you hear me?"

Cullen looked up to see Rylen frowning at him once more. He was in the middle of giving a report, and Cullen's mind had begun to wander from his Knight-Captain's words.

"Sorry, Rylen, please continue," he sighed.

"We have whispered reports of activity in Darktown, and -"

"Pass it on to the city guard," Cullen sighed. "We have enough on our plate at the moment trying to rebuild, and Darktown suffered the least damage, surprisingly. Our focus is on the rest of the city."

Rylen paused for a moment and then nodded. "Yes, Ser."

"Anything else?" Cullen asked.

"No, Ser. Not at present."

* * *

Time had flown by quickly, until she had already been helping the people of Kirkwall for a week. She helped whether they could pay or not, but almost everyone brought at least something to offer the new healer. She wasn't having to worry about where her next meal was coming from, considering how many people had been in need of her services. Every morning there was a line waiting for her when she opened the door, and it seemed to be growing by the day.

She'd already even helped deliver two babies, and had saved several children from a fever that was passing through Lowtown. The work was steady, but trying.

When she lost her first patient, though, she closed the doors of the clinic for the day and sat crying on the floor.

Someone cleared their throat nearby and she jumped; she hadn't heard anyone come in. She quickly wiped her eyes and looked up.

A tall, armored woman with red hair was standing inside the door, watching her with a frown. Evelyn took a moment for her teary eyes to focus before she realized the woman was wearing the armor of the city guard.

"I - can I help you?" Evelyn stammered. Her heart was racing.

The woman took a few steps forward and looked around. "I - I'm sorry to disturb you," she began. "I received reports of a healer working out of this clinic and I was making sure it wasn't who I thought."

Evelyn frowned. "The last healer left in a hurry, from what I understand."

The other woman gave a humorless chuckle. "Yes, he did."

"Is there - is there something you need?" Evelyn asked, trying to steady her voice. Her mind was racing. What if she'd been found out, what if the city guard had been sent to take her in?

 The woman walked through the clinic slowly, as if thinking. "I understand there is a healer again, though," she said after a few moments. She turned to face Evelyn. "Someone the people are saying can perform - miracles."

Evelyn tried to keep her face neutral, and didn't trust her voice to respond.

"Listen, I have enough on my plate without being sent to check on a _healer_ who's helping the people after the catastrophe that occurred here over a month ago," the woman sighed. "I don't know why the Templars asked me to check this out. An apostate isn't really my concern."

Evelyn swallowed hard. "Are you going to tell them?"

The woman regarded her closely for a moment. "No," she finally answered, and Evelyn released the breath she'd been holding.

"Thank you."

"Well, thank you as well. You're doing good work here, and I'm certainly not going to put a stop to it," the woman shrugged. "Just be careful, is all."

Evelyn nodded. The other woman stared at her for a moment before she turned to leave.

"Wait," Evelyn called and she finally stood up and took a few steps forward.

The guard turned to look at her, waiting expectantly.

"Did - did the Knight-Commander ask you to look into this? Does he - does he know I'm here?"

"I'm not certain," the guard answered slowly. "I was asked by the Knight-Captain to investigate the rumors."

"So you don't - you haven't spoken with the Knight-Commander?" Evelyn asked hesitantly.

"No, and I don't plan to," the woman answered. "He's not exactly fond of mages, and seeing as you're doing good work...well, I think it's best if I don't mention it to him."

Evelyn's heart sank and she wasn't exactly sure why. She nodded and murmured a thanks to the guard, watching as the other woman finally left.

Not exactly fond of mages.

She knew now that it was probably best if she never saw him again. Maybe after a bit more work in the clinic, she'd finally have enough gold to take a ship to Ferelden. Leaving Kirkwall needed to be her priority.

Still though, she passed the day in a melancholy, upset over her lost patient as well as the guard's description of the Knight-Commander. He hadn't seemed like an unpleasant man, in fact he'd seemed warm and trustworthy.

Perhaps that was only because he hadn't known, because he had been drunk and wanted her.

She wondered why she cared so much what he thought.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry I wasn't going to do too much non-smut ;-)

He was starting to feel desperate. He couldn't sleep, he couldn't go a night without checking the Hanged Man or Lowtown. He patrolled out of his armor, hoping to keep from alerting her if he ran into her, trying to blend as best as he could.

He grabbed a tankard of ale one night as he searched, looking around the Hanged Man the entire time he drank it.

"Did you go see the healer?" Someone near him said.

"I did. She's why I'm sittin' here drinkin' ale with you," came the reply.

"Tiny little thing, eh? I saw her reset a man's arm when I was there for my fever. Couldn't believe the strength she showed."

"Aye, hardly bigger than a knife-ear, eh?"

Cullen stilled, listening intently, his tankard raised to his mouth but he wasn't sipping from it.

"Glad she showed up when she did," the conversation continued. "Darktown needed a new healer, after what happened."

Cullen closed his eyes and cursed himself.

_There have been whispered reports of activity in Darktown._

How could he have been so blind?

He slammed his tankard down on the bar and rushed out, intending to check the old clinic Hawke's friend had resided in. He hadn't thought anything of it, but the timing, the description of how small she was...

He hurried through Darktown and saw a small crowd by the old clinic. And then the door opened and a patient was walking out, escorted by -

He stopped in his tracks and watched as she gave some final instructions to her patient. The patient was saying something emphatically, squeezing her hand, almost looking close to tears. She was nodding and smiling, still looking like a breath of fresh air as he stared at her.

But then she glanced up and saw him, and if he wasn't mistaken she paled as her smile faded.

"Clinic is closed for the evening," he heard her call, and she quickly shooed everyone away and began to close the door.

He ran forward, determined to speak with her. He wasn't going to let her get away now that he'd found her.

The small crowd parted for him as he tore forward, and he grabbed the handle of the door just before it closed. He pulled but could tell she was trying to shut it against him.

"Evelyn, let me in," he commanded, and after a moment he heard a sigh and the resistance he felt in the door gave way. He yanked it open and walked in, shutting it firmly behind him.

For a moment, they simply stared at each other.

She suddenly turned and ran, and he realized she was heading for a small, hidden door at the back of the clinic.

"Oh no you don't," he said and he ran forward and caught her by the arm.

"Let go of me," she cried, but he spun her around and pinned her to the wall beside them. She glared up at him, her eyes narrowed.

And suddenly this close he saw her eyes and realized what he'd missed in his drunken haze that night.

"You're a mage," he said, not loosening the grip he had on her arms.

"Yes," she answered firmly, her face hardening into a resolute grimace. "Going to take me away to the Gallows? Or do you like to play with your prey first?"

He frowned at her. Technically he should take her to the Circle, but something made him pause. Somehow she didn't seem like she belonged in the Gallows, even though she was an apostate.

Then again...

"You robbed me," he accused.

"I needed the money," she confessed, her voice still edgy. "If anything else I needed witherstalk since you didn't think to pull yourself from me."

"I would have gotten some for you, you didn't need to rob me."

She scoffed and looked away, but if he wasn't mistaken he thought she flushed.

"So what do you intend to do with me?" She asked after a moment, and returned her glare to him.

"I'm - I'm not sure," he admitted honestly.

She stared at him for a moment before she got a sudden shrewd look in her eyes. Her fingers were suddenly at the laces of his breeches, undoing them as she smiled slyly at him.

"What if we made a deal?" She purred, and she slid a hand into his breeches.

He was about to tell her to stop when he felt her fingers close around his length. He was already hard, just seeing her once more enough to get him excited. He groaned as she began to pump his length with her soft, small hand, and he braced himself with his hands against the wall above her.

"What kind of deal?" He breathed. He knew he shouldn't, but the feeling of her touching him was making reason leave his mind.

"If you let me stay here, if you let me keep my clinic open without interference - you can have me whenever you want," she murmured. She had leaned forward, her lips brushing against his as she spoke. "Just let me continue my work, and you can do what you want with me."

He groaned, imagining taking her again as she ran her thumb over the tip of him, spreading the bead of excitement that had escaped already. She swirled her finger around him as she bit his lower lip and he felt his mind going blank.

He was the Knight-Commander. She was a mage, an apostate.

But the idea of being inside her again overrode any objection he could think of for why he shouldn't accept her offer.

He could hate himself for it later.

He gave a low growl and pulled her away from the wall, spinning her around and pushing her to the small table near them. He bent her over it and began to yank her breeches down until they were below her round ass before he shifted his own so that he was free.

He used his feet to kick her legs a bit wider before he positioned himself at her wet opening, and with barely a moment's pause he slammed himself into her.

She gave a cry and he smirked to himself as he began thrusting into her. For as much as she'd been acting like she was seducing him, like she was going to let him use her, she was incredibly excited. He felt her flutter around him as he began moving within her, and she was intoxicatingly wet and tight, just as he'd been dreaming of for nearly two weeks.

He took up a punishing pace, relentless in how he was taking her. He felt like he owed her payback for how she had robbed him and disappeared. She was whimpering with each of his thrusts, nearly sounding like she was sobbing as he fucked her.

He twisted a hand into her hair and pulled her head back, leaning forward to tug her earlobe between his teeth. "You'll be mine whenever I want, Evelyn."

She moaned and tried to nod her head, her movement constricted by how he was pulling her hair. "Y-yes, Knight-Commander."

"It's Cullen," he told her, and he reached his other hand around to stroke her small pearl. He wanted to feel her come again, he wanted to hear her scream like she had before.

She gasped and responded eagerly, jerking her hips back against his while he touched her. He could feel her getting close and he bit his lip, trying to hold on until she came.

"Say it," he commanded her. "Tell me what you are."

"I'm - I'm yours, Cullen," she panted. "Whenever."

He increased the attention of his finger and she cried out, her sobs turning into gasps of " _yes, please_." A moment later she was bucking her hips sporadically, sobbing his name and moaning prayers to the Maker. He felt her clenching tightly around him and the feeling pushed him over the edge. He pushed hard and deep into her, feeling his release fill her in hot spurts as he groaned and rolled his hips against her.

When they had finally calmed he pulled himself from her and released her hair with a soft chuckle. "You have a deal, Evelyn. And you don't need to rob me this time - I'll buy all the witherstalk you need."

* * *

Her day at the clinic was finishing and her heart was beginning to race despite how she tried to calm herself.

She knew he'd be coming by. Not because of anything he'd said, but because of the look in his eyes. He'd come by that morning before her clinic opened and given her a stock of witherstalk - it was enough for a month. And just from that gesture, she'd known what he intended. When he agreed to 'whenever,' she knew that he'd meant it.

She was beginning to realize he'd probably be after her every day. And frankly, she wasn't horribly upset by that prospect.

She had offered herself as a bargaining chip, as if she wouldn't enjoy his end of the deal as much as he did. But it was a ruse. She'd enjoy every minute of it, just as she had the night before when he'd bent her over and taken her. Just the memory of it made her weak in the knees.

She knew other apostates often slept with Templars to keep them from reporting their presence in a town. She wondered if any of them enjoyed it as much as she was.

She wondered if she should feel shame about it, too.

She was pensive as she closed the clinic, musing over how much she enjoyed the prospect of him returning every night to collect on her offer. It would have been different if he hadn't been so attractive, so good at pleasing her. If he hadn't somehow managed to be so considerate even when he was a bit rough with her.

But she remembered what the red-haired guard had told her, about how he wasn't so fond of mages, and she tried to temper her desire. He was fantastic at fucking. She couldn't think about him beyond that.

Not long after she'd closed the clinic, the door opened and he walked in. She tried to keep her face neutral, to hide her excitement to see him. His crooked grin as he stalked toward her made that more difficult than she'd thought.

They barely exchanged pleasantries before he smirked at her and tugged her hand gently.

"Get on your knees, Evelyn," he told her.

She obeyed but her heart was pounding. She'd never done this before, and she was worried he'd be able to tell. She waited patiently, licking her lips as he undid his breeches and freed his hard length, looking at her expectantly as he did.

She opened her lips and he slid his tip between them, groaning as he did so. She was surprised by how velvety and soft it was, by how wonderful he felt against her tongue. He moaned loudly as she sucked the tip of him, and then he put his hand on the back of her head, trying to gently direct her.

He whispered her name as she slid her mouth down his length as far as she could, his head rolling back on his shoulders as he enjoyed himself.

"Yes, Evelyn," he moaned as he tried to thrust himself further down her throat. She did her best to accommodate him, but pulled away quickly when it was too much for her. Somehow the sight of her struggling seemed to excite him. "Come here," he commanded.

She stood and he smirked at her as he began to remove her clothes. When he'd stripped her he spent a long minute looking her up and down. "Lay down," he told her.

Evelyn moved to the cot that was nearby and laid down, watching him expectantly. He stripped himself of his own clothes and then knelt. He pulled her hips toward him to the edge of the cot, pushing her thighs together and over one of his shoulders as he thrust himself into her.

Just as it had the night before and the time before that, the moment he pushed into her felt like the best feeling she'd ever experienced.

"Evelyn - Maker's breath you feel amazing," he moaned. He began thrusting and she cried out with each of his movements, unable to respond except with moans and gasps.

As she began to get close he reached down with a hand to touch her, swirling his finger around her excited bundle of nerves. But just as she was about to finish he stopped all of his movements. She moaned with frustration but he stared down at her.

"Promise me you won't fuck anyone else," he said.

She wanted to deny it, she wanted to tell him he couldn't dictate that. But she was so desperate for her release, desperate for him to make her come again that instead she moaned.

"There hasn't ever been anyone else," she gasped.

He frowned, but resumed his motions within her, his movement of his finger against her excited pearl.

"Say my name, I want to hear it," he groaned.

She sobbed his name, again and again as she felt herself pushed over the edge. She arched her back and cried out, her whole body tensing and shaking as she came around him. He moaned a moment later and she felt him pulse and fill her as he found his own release.

When he slowed he looked down at her, his brows still furrowed. "Why did you say 'ever?'" he asked her.

She bit her lower lip and looked away from him. She didn't want to confess it, she didn't want him to know. She hadn't meant to say it.

"Evelyn tell me," he demanded.

"I - I..." she sighed and clenched her eyes shut. "I just meant that...um..." she trailed off, unable to say it.

"You were - Maker's breath, were you - had you not -"

She sighed and shook her head, resigned to tell him. "That - that was my first. You were my first."

He was silent for so long she finally opened her eyes and looked up at him. He looked shocked beyond words.

"You should have told me," he finally murmured.

She shrugged. "It wasn't important," she told him.

"Yes it was, I mean, did I - did I hurt you?" He almost looked ashamed.

She shook her head. "Not really," she answered honestly.

He was staring at her, looking conflicted about something. "Do you actually want me, or are you just trying to avoid the Gallows?"

She stared at him, considering. She contemplated lying, but the look in his eyes was too endearing.

"I - I want you," she confessed. "I did that night, too."

He grinned. "Good."

She was surprised when he rolled over and pulled her to him, embracing her as he settled in for sleep. It felt intimate, more intimate than fucking. She hadn't thought he would stay to sleep after.

But she was secretly glad he did, since she slept even better when he was pressed against her back.


	5. Chapter 5

He was inside her, and the feeling was positively addictive.

He'd been fucking her for over a week now, but every time felt like the first, like the best he'd ever experienced.

She was rolling her hips against him, her feet bracing her on the desk he had her on. She cried out as she increased her speed, and he felt the telltale signs of her getting closer.

"I want to hear you, Evelyn," he moaned.

The corners of her mouth tugged up when she heard his usual request. "Do you want to hear me or do you want everyone else to hear me?"

He chuckled at her breathless teasing, and answered, "Both." He reached a finger down and began to stroke her, so familiar with her already that it only took a few strokes before she was crying his name so loudly he was certain at least Rylen had to hear them. He groaned loudly as he found his own release, and he held himself within her as he tried to catch his breath after.

"Stay here tonight," he told her. He tried to make it sound like a casual request, but it was the reason he'd insisted that she come to his quarters instead of him going to the clinic tonight. He was getting tired of the cramped cot every night, and wanted to sleep with her in his arms in his own bed.

"Um - no, I - I need to get back to the clinic," she muttered, and she pushed against his chest and tried to get off his desk.

He pulled himself from her and frowned as she readjusted her top and buttoned it. "Why? You can stay here, it's not a problem."

"No, really, I should get going," she was pulling her breeches on hurriedly, her fingers fumbling with the laces.

"Please, stay here," he insisted and he immediately regretted how pleading his tone sounded.

She furrowed her brows and glanced up, regarding him carefully. She pursed her lips slightly before she shook her head. "No, no I need to go."

"Why?"

"I just - I shouldn't stay here, in the Gallows. I should go back to Darktown," she answered slowly and shrugged.

He hadn't thought about it like that, and he couldn't think of a reason to make her stay.

"I, um...well, good night," she said, sounding awkward. She paused for only a moment more before she raced to his door and saw herself out.

He tucked himself back into his breeches and sighed, looking around his quarters. It felt wrong, hollow with her running out the door as soon as they were finished. And he knew suddenly that he wouldn't be able to sleep as well. The past week he'd slept wonderfully, so rested that he'd started to feel a bit more like himself.

He shook his head and began to get ready for bed, resigning himself to being alone again.

He wished he'd been able to make her stay.

 

 

Uldred was sneering at him, he was raising his staff, he was going to torture him again because he'd refused the demon -

Cullen sat up, looking around wildly. It took him several moments to realize where he was, to realize he wasn't about to be tortured. His heart kept racing though, his breathing hard and fast like he'd been running. He was covered in sweat, he could feel it running down his temples and his back.

He needed her.

He didn't know why, but something in him knew that seeing her would ease this fear. Sleeping in her cramped cot was infinitely preferable to this.

He hurried out of bed and threw on his breeches and loose shirt, tugging on boots as he raced out the door. He felt like a man possessed as he made his way through the city to Darktown, hardly noticing his surroundings as he went.

He reached the clinic and eased the door open, slipping inside as quietly as he could. He let his eyes adjust to the darkness and then he crept to where she slept.

He removed his clothes and boots quietly and lifted the blanket. She was sleeping naked, and he gripped her sides and rolled her over.

Her eyes flew open and she conjured sparks to her hand, ready to attack. She saw it was him and immediately quelled her magic. He hesitated for only a moment at the sight of her magic, but his plaguing nightmares were currently worse than the sight of her lightning.

She frowned and opened her mouth, but before she could speak he pressed his lips to hers as he covered her with his body, pushing her back onto the cot.

Since they'd made their deal, they hadn't actually kissed again until now. He'd forgotten how sweet she tasted, how much he loved the feeling of her lips and her tongue. She moaned softly and slid a hand into his hair, raking it gently with her nails as she responded to his kiss.

He reached down and parted her thighs, settling himself between them and pushing into her as soon as he did. She gasped against his lips but he pressed his mouth more firmly against hers, smothering her with a kiss.

He moved within her desperately, trying to stay as deep as he could the whole time, kissing her passionately and keeping his body flush against her. His hip bones were rubbing against hers sharply, adding a small amount of pain as he pressed so close against her. He couldn't get enough of her, he couldn't stay close enough as he tried to erase the memory of Kinloch and the cage with the feeling of her body.

She was clinging to him, answering his kiss with eager passion of her own. She was digging her nails into his back, and then she slid them up into his hair. She twisted it, she tugged it gently as her tongue danced against his. He almost hadn't expected her to be as eager as he was, as desperate for passion as he felt.

They came at the same moment, not breaking their kiss as they both shuddered and clung more tightly to one another. He finally stopped and raised his head, staring down into her face in awe.

He hadn't expected that, and from the look on her face, she hadn't either. For a moment they simply stared at one another, and then he rolled them over on the cot, pulling her until she was lying on top of him. He kept his arms wrapped tight around her, and he buried his face against her hair and breathed in the scent of rain that clung to her.

Neither of them said a word, and he preferred it that way. He didn't want to answer her questions, he didn't want to explain why he'd sought her out. He didn't want to ruin the moment by confessing that he'd needed her. That he wasn't sure he could sleep without her.

Instead he held her on his chest and slowly their breathing deepened and they both fell asleep.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Evelyn was honestly surprised it had taken this long for something like this to happen.

She stood in the door of her clinic, glaring at the man who was shouting about the dangers of magic and scaring off her potential patients. She wasn't sure what she could do about it. She contemplated zapping him with lightning, but knew that would just be counterproductive. Plus it would prove his point.

She wondered if she could go to the city guard, to the woman who had seemed more than happy to let her continue on with her work. But he wasn't hurting anyone, just her potential cash flow. There wasn't anything to do.

She heaved a sigh and went back into her clinic, intending to wait and see if anyone braved their way past the naysayer to seek her services.

No one did for the rest of the day.

When it was evening she finally locked up the clinic and wandered through Darktown. She was frustrated and decided she needed a drink.

She worried a bit whether or not Cullen would come by and be upset not to find her in the clinic. But her frustration made her bitter even about that, and she decided she didn't care. He deserved a bit of annoyance.

He still came by every night. Some nights he spoke with her first, some nights he didn't say a word before he pressed her against the nearest surface and began to take her hard and fast. She was beginning to suspect that he was troubled, that maybe he was using her to work through something. Some nights seemed worse than others, and it was on those nights, when he seemed like he was a man possessed, that she wondered if she should have made this deal with him. 

But the times that he was a little rough with her always led to him holding her tight to him, and occasionally he'd ask softly if she was all right.

His tenderness irritated her more than the times she felt like he was using her. When he looked at her with a soft look in his eyes her heart raced and she felt overwhelmed with the desire to kiss him and take care of him.

She wanted to hate him instead. 

She'd heard the stories around Kirkwall, she knew how he'd ignored Meredith for years until things got so bad he finally had to act. Only because eyes were finally on him, because he had to. She had heard about the abuses of the Gallows. He wasn't worthy of her care.

Yet he made her curious, the way that he held her so closely when he settled in for sleep. He'd fuck her until they were both exhausted and she was nearly sore and aching, and then he'd curl himself around her and stroke her hair as he snuggled her to him.

It was positively baffling.

She reached the Hanged Man and pushed her way through the crowd to the bar. She ordered whiskey and downed it, ordering another immediately.

Her musings as she walked through the city had only increased her irritation and frustration. Her day without patients had set her back in her coin, and she was becoming more desperate to leave Kirkwall every day.

"H - hello," a voice said beside her.

She turned to see a man standing beside her, with a slightly pinched boyish face, long mousy brown hair, and almost black eyes. She took in his appearance, thinking he looked almost like a rat. He was certainly eyeing her eagerly as if she was a tasty morsel. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Can I buy you a drink?" The man asked when she didn't say anything.

She considered for a moment, but before she said no she realized the opportunity she had to make up the day's coin. She gave him a sweet smile. "Yes," she agreed, and she batted her eyelashes at him.

He grinned even more eagerly and began to try to flag down the bartender.

Evelyn let him flirt with her, she did her best to make herself seem interested. But the man was tedious, bragging about himself and clearly making up stories to impress her. She had a goal, though, and she continued to encourage him to drink as she pretended to be fascinated by his every word.

All she needed was to get him drunk enough and she'd feel like the day wasn't such a waste. As he became more intoxicated, he moved closer to her and soon his arm was around her, his hand caressing her hip.

Mentally she rolled her eyes and resisted the urge to brush his hand away.

"You know, I don't live far from here," the man slurred.

Evelyn couldn't resist. "I thought you said you had a mansion in Hightown?"

"Oh - I - I do, but it's being renovated so I'm staying in Lowtown. It's been quite -"

But she didn't get to hear the rest of his lie.

A large hand gripped his shoulder and pulled him away from Evelyn, spinning him around. Her gaze followed the strong arm and her eyes widened when she saw the scowl on Cullen's face as he glared at the man.

"Get lost," he growled and he shoved the man away from him through the crowd.

"Hey I - I saw her first -" the man protested as he stood as tall as he could. He still didn't come up to Cullen's shoulder.

"I won't tell you again," Cullen gritted out. "Stay. Away. From. Her."

The tone of Cullen's voice seemed to make the man cower. He opened his mouth to say something else but Cullen simply turned away from him like he didn't matter. He turned a glare to Evelyn, and she set her chin resolutely, refusing to cave under the intense look he was giving her.

For a moment they glared at each other, and then he grabbed her hand and pulled her behind him through the crowd.

"Let go of me, how dare you -" she hissed at him, but he ignored her.

He ignored her protests all the way to his quarters, his fingers tight around her wrist like a band of steel.

When they reached the door of his quarters he opened it and yanked her inside. She stumbled away from him as he released her and slammed the door behind them.

"What was that?" He gritted out.

"What do you mean? I was just having a drink," she shrugged.

"No, you weren't. That man was asking you home with him, he wanted to -"

"So?" She retorted. She didn't know why she was antagonizing him, why she didn't just tell him nothing was going to happen. She was still just irritated, and she wanted him to think maybe she would have.

"You're mine," he said, his voice nearly a shout.

"You don't _own_ me," she yelled.

He scowled and began to stalk forward, advancing on her. "Do you really think that tiny whelp of a man could have satisfied you?" He growled out.

She backed away, watching him warily. But she backed into the wall and couldn't go anywhere else. He stepped before her and put his hands against the wall, trapping her between his arms.

"Do you really think you would have enjoyed him?"

She clenched her jaw and made no reply. She couldn't think about it, she couldn't even picture enjoying anyone but the man who was staring down at her so intensely.

"You promised me," he glowered at her.

"That doesn't mean you own me, that I can't even talk to anyone else."

He smirked suddenly. "If I wanted it to, it could. I could make it so you weren't even tempted to consider anyone else."

She frowned, confused by his words. He knelt suddenly in front of her and pulled her breeches down, tugging her boots off so he could strip her legs naked. He pulled one of her knees over his shoulder.

"What are you -" she began but her words were cut short and she snapped her head back against the wall. He was running his tongue along her slit, flicking it against the small pearl that rested at the top. She let out a cry like a shout as he took up a steady pace and lapped eagerly at her until she felt her knees going weak. If he hadn't had his hands on her rear and thighs supporting her she was certain she'd collapse from the feeling.

"Maker, I - _mmm_ , please," she moaned and she rolled her hips against his mouth.

He stopped and stared up at her, and the loss of contact with his tongue made her whimper with desperation. She looked down into his eyes, noticing the gleam in his golden gaze as he regarded her. He almost looked triumphant.

"What was that?" He purred. "I didn't quite hear you."

She groaned, realizing what he wanted. She considered not giving in but her sex throbbed and she could feel herself dripping with excitement. She wanted to come more than she wanted to resist and irritate him.

" _Please_ , Cullen, please keep going," she sobbed.

He teased her with a few flicks of his tongue and then he pulled away again. "I didn't tell you to stop begging."

She whimpered and the words began to pour from her lips until she was begging him desperately. She felt her cheeks burning with shame but she couldn't deny how much she wanted him.

He resumed his tongue's rhythm and she cried out and made sure she continued whimpering her pleas. He slid two fingers into her and she felt her mind go blank as her limbs quaked and she lost herself. She nearly screamed as she came, his name the only coherent word she could manage to say.

As soon as she finished he stood and undid his breeches. She hardly had time to catch her breath or recover before he pulled her with him to the edge of the bed. He sat on it and pulled her into his lap and immediately impaled her on him, eliciting a cry from her lips at the sensation, more intense after she'd just come.

He groaned and gripped her hips tightly and began to move her, directing her up and down on him with powerful hands. He was controlling her every movement, all she could do was cling to his shoulders and cry out every time he pulled her down on his thick shaft.

It took hardly any time before she was crying out again as she came, her mind going black until she thought she'd pass out. He increased the speed and force he was lifting her with and he groaned loudly, letting her hear how much he was enjoying her as he came.

When he finished he held her against him, both of them trying to catch their breath.

"I told you, you're mine," he said.

She sighed. "I wasn't going to let him take me," she admitted, hating herself. "I was going to take his money after he passed out drunk."

Cullen pulled back and looked up at her. "What about the clinic?"

"Someone scared off all my patients today," she muttered bitterly.

"How did they do that?"

"Stood there yelling about the dangers of magic, about what the last healer did."

He was silent for a moment, looking like he was thinking hard. "Do you need money again that badly? I can help you, all you need to do is ask, you don't need to rob people."

She sighed and shook her head. "I can't take your money. Besides I need enough for -"

But she stopped and bit her lip. She didn't even know why she didn't want to tell him she was trying to leave Kirkwall. She'd begun to plan just disappearing when she had enough money, not telling him at all and just walking away.

"Need enough for what?" He frowned.

She shook her head.

"Tell me, Evelyn," he said, his voice reverting to that commanding tone that sent shivers through her and made her unable to deny him anything.

"Enough to get out of here," she admitted softly. "I never meant to get stranded in Kirkwall."

He stared at her for a long moment, an odd look in his eyes. "You're going to leave?"

She nodded, unsure of what to make of the tone of his voice.

He finally released his hold on her and she stood carefully, her legs shaking as she pulled away from him. He watched as she walked to her breeches, and then suddenly he stood and walked over to her, grabbing her wrist.

"Stay here," he said.

She stared up at him, frowning. "Why?"

"I want you to," he answered. His voice still had that same confusing tone, still sounding soft and almost tender.

She sighed. She hated the idea that she'd get caught in his quarters in the Gallows. Then again, he was the Knight-Commander, and surprisingly so far he had protected her.

Slowly she nodded her head, consenting to his request. He grinned and let go of her wrist. They both stripped out of the rest of their clothes and climbed into his bed. Again he wrapped himself around her, and pressed gentle kisses to her lips and her forehead as they settled in.

He was making it harder to hate him like she wanted to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Grayson's only appearance in this fic because I'm so sick of that ass xD


	7. Chapter 7

He opened his eyes and was immediately greeted with the beautiful sight of _her_.

The early morning sun was pouring through the window he always left open, and was glinting off of her hair. In the light, it made her hair almost shimmer blue, so dark it was like looking into the night sky. Her long black eyelashes were resting against her white cheeks, and her full pink lips were parted slightly. One hand was resting under her head, and the other…

The other hand was holding his on the pillow.

He had fallen asleep holding her, curled behind her small form and nearly encompassing her with his arms wrapped tightly around her. But now they were facing each other, and somehow, they were holding hands.

He marveled at the sight of her small white hand in his large tanned one, noticing the way it looked like she’d tucked her fingers into his grip. He found himself wondering how it had happened, if she had meant to do it, or if they had merely sought each other out as they slept.

Slowly, carefully, he began to stroke the back of her hand with his thumb. She gave a soft sigh, and he was torn between watching her sleep longer and waking her up with soft kisses.

_What had gotten into him?_

She was a mage, she was an apostate, and she had seduced him at a bar and then robbed him. She had made a deal with him to trade sex for protection. She had given up her virginity in a drunken, one night tryst to him, without telling him.

He wasn’t quite sure what he made of her.

Sometimes she looked at him with something similar to loathing in her gaze, and she certainly almost always looked at him with distrust and unease. Except for the moments when he was inside her, except for the moments when she was sobbing his name. Then, she almost looked at him with something like desire, or affection. The look always set his soul aflame.

He frowned, trying to determine why that was, why he slept better when she was next to him or in his arms. Why he couldn’t stop thinking about her, a mage, even when he was supposed to be busy rebuilding Kirkwall.

She murmured something incoherently in her sleep, and he leaned forward finally and pressed soft kisses to her forehead. Her fingers flexed in his hand and he returned the pressure with his, pressing his lips to her cheekbone as he did. She stirred slightly and her eyes began to flutter open, her brows furrowing the tiniest bit as she looked up at him.

She smiled, the corners of her lips tugging up slowly as she stared up at him. Her smile reminded him of that first night, when they had talked together at the Hanged Man.

But then she blinked several times, and raised her head to look around. She saw her hand in his and frowned sharply, and finally pulled it away.

An ache in his stomach began as he lamented the loss of her soft fingers in his.

“I – I should get going -” she said and she tried to sit up.

He reached out and wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her back into his arms. “Not yet,” he murmured.

“What if someone sees me leave? I need to go -”

“It’s fine,” he told her quietly. He settled her back into the pillows with him, his arms wrapped tightly around her. He pressed his nose into her hair and enjoyed the way she reminded him of a spring thunderstorm. “Stay just a little longer.”

She was silent for a moment and then tried to turn her face up to look up at him in their close proximity. “Why do you want me here so much?”

He thought for a moment, realizing he wasn’t quite sure of the answer himself. “I just wanted to – uh -”

She was still staring at him, and then she shook her head. “You just want to take me again, don’t you?”

He chuckled. He hadn’t been thinking about that, but now that she said it, he realized it sounded like the perfect idea. And the perfect excuse. “Well, we are both naked…”

She gave a soft, almost exasperated giggle, still shaking her head at him. He reached down and lifted her chin, tilting her head up so that he could kiss her. He moved his lips against hers slowly, enjoying the feeling of her gentle response. He let the kiss carry on for what felt like an eternity before he finally shifted her and pulled her beneath him, his hands wandering over her skin and caressing her. He moved against her as if trying to memorize her, his fingers squeezing and sliding over her flesh as he slanted his mouth and kissed her deeply.

He lazily searched out the wetness he desired between her legs, and with a few thrusts he pushed himself deep within her. She gasped and wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer to her as she slid a hand along his cheek, her nails lightly scraping against his stubble.

She’d never clung to him like this during, and there was something almost sweet in the way she was kissing him. He pulled away from her lips and stared down at her, watching her face intently as he continued moving within her.

There it was, that look almost like affection in her eyes.

His heart sped up even faster and he slid a finger down to touch her, suddenly desperate to hear her sob his name. She bucked her hips when she felt him begin to stroke her, and her mouth tugged up at the corners like she was fighting a smile.

“Yes,” she moaned, and she slid her hands to his shoulders and rolled her hips against him.

“Evelyn,” he murmured, suddenly unable to resist. “Tell me you like it, tell me you enjoy how this feels.”

“Oh Cullen, I do,” she purred eagerly. “You feel amazing, I – oh, Maker, I’m going to – yes, Cullen, yes.”

Her back arched and she gave a soft cry, chanting his name like a prayer. It was exactly what he’d wanted to hear, exactly the sound he had craved. He groaned and thrust deeper, trying to find his own release.

“Wait,” she moaned breathlessly, and she looked up at him and cupped his cheek with her hand. “Cullen, please – again, I want to come again, Maker you feel -”

But he smothered her with a kiss and returned his finger to her, feeling her throb slightly as she whimpered against his lips. Something about her request, something about the way she had sounded like she couldn’t get enough of him – it drove him wild until he suddenly wanted to give her everything.

She came again, pulling her mouth from his as she cried out and tightened her legs around him. The feeling of her clenching around him finally pushed him over the edge as well and he went deep as he felt his body shudder, his balls drawing up as he poured himself into her with a gasping groan of her name.

They lay still, panting and trying to regain their senses. She slowly ran her fingers through his hair, and he shivered at the light contact.

“Cullen,” she whispered.

He gave a small grunt, unable to move to look up at her or respond in any other way. He was deliciously exhausted, suddenly wanting to sleep once more, just like this on top of her, still inside of her.

“Why did you want me to stay?”

“I like the sight of you in my bed, the feel of you in my arms,” he answered, his voice slow and heavy. He cringed when he realized what he had confessed; he hadn’t meant to answer so honestly.

She hummed softly as if thinking, but she made no reply. He finally lifted his head and propped himself on his elbows so he could stare down at her. She was watching him, her brows slightly furrowed and a curiously soft look of confusion on her face. She opened her mouth to speak but he leaned down and kissed her tenderly, unable to resist after he saw the look in her eyes.

He wanted to say something, he wanted to try to explain how he felt around her, but there was a knock on the door and Cullen pulled away from her with a muttered curse. He saw the fearful look in her eyes and he tried to smile reassuringly.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” he said as he pulled himself from her and got off the bed. He tugged his breeches on and fastened them quickly, and he saw that she pulled the sheets over her and rolled so that she wasn’t facing the door.

He walked across the room and opened the door, trying to block the view into his quarters with his body as he took in the sight of the one who had interrupted them.

“Ser, I’m sorry, I – I know that you’re busy,” Rylen cleared his throat. Cullen frowned slightly, absorbing the implication of the Knight-Captain’s words. “I wouldn’t have bothered you but – there’s a Seeker here, she requested to see you as soon as possible.”

Cullen’s frown deepened. “A Seeker? Did she say what about?”

“No, Ser, just that she needed to speak with you,” the other man reported.

“Very well,” he sighed. “Thank you Rylen, I’ll be there shortly.”

The Knight-Captain gave a jerky nod and turned to leave as Cullen closed the door. He heaved a sigh before he turned back to the bed. Evelyn rolled over and stared at him, wide-eyed.

“He knew I was in here,” she murmured.

Cullen gave her a crooked grin. “He knew someone was in here. We weren’t exactly quiet, and his quarters aren’t far.”

He saw her eyebrows raise with worry. “Cullen, I -”

“It’s nothing to worry about,” he shrugged. “He doesn’t know who you are, and it’s not like I’m sworn to celibacy.”

“What if he finds out who I am?” she asked.

“He won’t.”

She frowned. “You sound incredibly sure of that.”

“Even if he does, I don’t think it’s anything to be concerned about.”

“Obviously you’ve never had to hide who you were for fear of your own life,” she scoffed. She pushed the sheets of the bed back and finally stood up, picking up her clothes from where he had pleasured her against the wall the night before. The memory brought a small smirk to his face as he watched her dress.

“You’re right, I haven’t,” he answered her after several moments. “But I am the Knight-Commander, and I can keep them from looking into you.”

“Isn’t that an abuse of power?” she mused wryly.

“Just a small one. It’s not like you’re hurting anyone.”

She sighed. “Tell that to the madman yelling outside my clinic.”

He chuckled and she glared at him. He wanted to help her, knowing that her work at the clinic was beneficial and necessary. At the same time, he suddenly didn’t want to help her get more coin. If she got enough, she would leave Kirkwall. The idea upset him, though he wished he could fully understand why. She irritated him, like the previous evening when she let him think she would have gone home with another man. At the same time, he didn’t want to lose the chance to take her whenever he wanted. His nights with her were steadily becoming his favorite part of the fact that he was somehow still alive.

She finished lacing her boots and stood, making her way to the door. “Check and make sure the coast is clear,” she asked softly.

He smirked a little and opened the door a crack to peer out. “It’s clear, you should be fine.”

He turned back to her and put an arm around her waist, pulling her to him. He pressed a kiss to her lips, and she slipped an arm around his neck as she responded. He hadn’t expected her to, and his lips twisted keenly against hers. After a long moment they swayed and then pulled away from each other, staring into one another’s eyes in silence.

“I – I should go,” she murmured at last, and she pulled herself out of his embrace and hurried past him out of the room.

He closed his door and stood with his hands on his hips for a moment, staring at the floor as he thought. He shook his head and walked over to his armor stand, preoccupied about Evelyn and wondering what a Seeker could possibly want with him.


	8. Chapter 8

Evelyn stood in the door of her clinic again, glaring at the man shouting at her potential patients. She needed to do something about this, she couldn’t let this continue. And not just because she needed the coin, because she was becoming more desperate each day to get out of Kirkwall. She needed to do something because her patients needed her, because people could die if he continued to scare off her patients.

She scanned the crowd of hesitant patients who were trying to decide if they dared approach Evelyn. She saw a familiar face, and seized on the opportunity. It was someone who had escorted a friend to her clinic before, who knew that she had helped and not harmed.

“You, Serah,” she called out to him, waving and smiling. “How is your friend, has his fever gone away?”

The man hesitated and then stepped forward, nodding. “Yes, he’s improved,” he told her, but he shot a furtive glance at the madman still yelling. “My wife, though, she’s ill.” He gestured to the woman beside him, and Evelyn noticed that she looked faint and clammy, even from this distance.

“Bring her in, quickly,” Evelyn waved him in. “I have some elfroot for her fever, and I can mix up the embrium potion I gave your friend to make his illness go away.”

The man hesitated only a second more before he put an arm around his wife’s shoulder and followed Evelyn into the clinic. She situated them on the cot closest to the clinic doors, which she left open. She also made sure she mixed all of her potions in front of the open doors, speaking loudly to the man and his wife about what she was doing so the others could hear her.

She noticed members of the crowd moving closer to the doors, watching her intently. When the woman began to proclaim that she felt much better already, there were murmurs through the onlookers. After another few moments, a small trickle of patients began to stream into the clinic, ignoring the man who still yelled about mages and how dangerous they were.

Evelyn smiled to herself and she set to work. It was good to be busy again, because it helped take her mind off of that morning, of the odd way Cullen had been so sweet and tender to her.

It was almost like making love, and she hated how eagerly she’d responded to his gentle passion. She hated herself for the way she’d begged him to make her fall apart again, for the way she’d begged him the previous night when he had his head between her legs. But when he was touching her, when he was inside her, she felt like she lost herself and all she could think about was needing him, wanting more. She hated him for it.

She was embarrassed that she’d woken up holding his hand, knowing she must have sought out his comfort in the night in response to her dreams in the Fade. She was confused though by the twinkle he’d had in his amber eyes as he watched her wake up, of the way he’d been squeezing and stroking her hand in his.

Why was he always so sweet to her, when other times he treated her like a whore, like he would lock her up if she didn’t let him do what he wanted to her?

He was a baffling man, and she found herself so conflicted, her inner turmoil increasing every day, and all she knew was how desperately she needed to get away from Kirkwall.

She needed to get away from him, for her own sanity.

She slaved away in the clinic, the amount of patients seeming to have increased, and she wondered if those that had left the day before had come back now that they saw others within the clinic once more. She hardly noticed how fast time was passing as she worked, until she was suddenly starving and she realized it had to be late in the evening. She finished with her last patient, and stepped out of her clinic doors to take a breath and look around.

The yelling man had long given up and left, but she assumed he’d be back the next day. She sighed and looked around, getting ready to close up. She thought about needing to clean herself up before Cullen arrived, realizing she had blood and other bodily fluids on her.

She sighed and hated how eager she was to make sure she looked and smelled pretty for him.

Maker she hated herself, she hated him for making her want him.

She was turning to head back into the clinic when she heard shouting, and she turned to see what the commotion was.

A group of thugs was running toward someone, and it took her a moment to realize they were surrounding a Templar. His back was to her, but he turned as he swung his sword. Evelyn swore under her breath and grabbed her staff from the clinic before hurrying toward the melee.

She instinctively threw up a barrier around both of them before she summoned her lightning and paralyzed one of the nearby thugs. She hit him hard, knocking his jaw with her staff and he collapsed, unconscious. She spun and twirled her staff, taking aim at a thug behind Cullen, and she threw a bolt of lightning at him.

Cullen was easily taking on three of the thugs, hitting them and knocking them back as they tried to get near him one after another. He hit one in the face with the pommel of his sword before he punched another with his free hand, his gauntlet easily breaking the other man’s nose.

Evelyn was temporarily distracted watching him fight as the thug she’d been striking with her staff stumbled back, paralyzed again by a stray lightning bolt that summoned itself to defend her. She’d known since he was a Templar that he had to be a well-trained fighter, but he was powerful, a sight to behold.

She didn’t see the thug that snuck up behind her, and she let out a shriek when she felt an arm wrap around her chest, pinning her arms to her side. The cold metal of a knife pushed to her throat, and she felt the sharp edge cut into her skin ever so slightly.

“Stop!” the thug yelled, and Cullen turned from where he had his sword buried in the gut of one of the other thugs. His eyes seemed to widen and he withdrew his large blade and the thug fell to the ground, blood covering the dirt beneath him as he fell.

“Let her go,” Cullen growled, but he didn’t take a step forward. Instead, he stood taking deep breaths, tightening his grip on his sword as he glared at the man who had Evelyn.

“Only if you let the rest of us go,” the thug called, and his arm clenched Evelyn until she whined from the pressure, her breathing difficult. She tried not to move, the dagger still pressed so tightly to her throat she was scared if she moved she’d cut herself more.

Cullen’s grip loosened on his sword, and he was frowning. “All right,” he said, lowering his sword so that the tip rested on the ground. “Just let her go.”

Evelyn didn’t warn him in time, her shout came a moment too late.

A thug charged Cullen while he was distracted staring at the man who held Evelyn, and slammed his armored fist into Cullen’s right cheek. Cullen staggered, blood covering his mouth and chin from where the man’s armor had torn his skin. Evelyn shouted and began to struggle against the man who held her as Cullen tried to regain his balance and lifted his sword at the man who attacked him.

Evelyn felt the dagger cut her throat a bit more as she pushed the man behind her and elbowed him, and he grunted in surprise and released her slightly. She focused and drew on the lyrium in her veins, and a Blast of energy made the man go flying away from her. As soon as she had some distance from him, she summoned her lightning and threw it at him, striking him again and again until he collapsed.

She stared at his lifeless corpse for a moment, trying not to focus on what she’d just had to do. She had injured before to save her own life, but she had never killed.

She swallowed hard and turned to where Cullen was fighting the large thug who had struck him, and she focused her magic again, paralyzing the man so that Cullen could cut him down.

The last of the thugs finally motionless, they both stood for a moment breathing deeply and staring around at the cluster of bodies around them. Finally Cullen bent and used the shirt of one of the men to clean his sword of blood before he sheathed it and turned to face Evelyn.

He walked forward, still trying to catch his breath, and he almost looked like he was glaring at her. “Are you all right?” he asked, but his tone almost sounded torn between anger and concern.

“I’m fine,” she shrugged. “I’m better than you, anyway.” She looked over the wound on his face, on the blood dripping down his chin.

“I’m fine -” he began but she shook her head and took his hand.

“Come with me,” she sighed.

She led him into her clinic and leaned her staff against the wall, and she guided him to one of the cots and pushed him back until he was sitting upon it. She knelt and wet a clean cloth and tenderly began to clean his face, noticing the bruising that was showing on his cheek and chin. The blood was coming from a tear in his upper lip that extended to his cheek. She grimaced when she realized the flesh was torn completely, and she could see his teeth and gums through the torn flaps of skin.

She finished cleaning him with the cloth, wiping away as much of the blood as she could even though more just continued to cover him. She set the cloth aside and took a deep breath, wriggling her fingers and focusing on drawing from her dwindled lyrium within her veins. The soft green glow of magic came to her fingers and she reached up to place her hand on the tear in his skin.

And suddenly her magic went out, the lyrium in her veins suppressed and a painful, oppressive weight in her lungs cut off her ability to speak, to breathe.

She opened her mouth in a wordless cry, and raised her eyes to Cullen’s, realizing what was happening to her.

He had Silenced her.

She barely registered the look in his eyes, she didn’t notice that it looked more like fear than anger. She felt her heart pounding, and pure indignation and fury coursed through her.

She slapped him across the face as hard as she could, unable to do anything else, still unable to speak or conjure her magic. The sound of her slap rang through the otherwise silent clinic, and her hand immediately ached, her fingers throbbing and prickling from their powerful contact with his cheek.

His face remained motionless, still turned from how hard she had slapped him.

For a long moment, neither of them moved. As soon as she felt the oppressive Silence leave her, she sat back on her heels, leaning away from him.

“Get. Out,” she demanded, her voice low, her breath hissing through her teeth with her suppressed rage. She wanted to hit him again, she wanted to rake at his face with her nails and claw at every bit of him she could reach.

“I -” he began, his voice barely audible.

“I mean it,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “Get out.”

He finally turned to stare at her, an indecipherable look in his eyes. He looked like he was considering refusing, and he opened his mouth a few times as if he wanted to speak. The tear in his lip was still bleeding, and she fought the temptation to clean it off of him. She fought her better nature, her desire to take care of him, letting her rage and fear dictate her actions. She needed him to leave, her whole body shaking as she tried to overcome the lingering feeling of the Silence he’d cast on her. Her veins felt like they were being cut from the inside, the lyrium irritated and running through her like small daggers.

If she had thought of him as anything other than a Templar, she had finally been reminded of their positions the moment he had suppressed her magic.

Mage, apostate.

Templar, Knight-Commander.

They could never be anything else.

She bit her tongue and blinked her eyes, trying not to let him see the tears threatening to overflow onto her cheeks.

He finally pushed himself off the cot and began to leave before he suddenly turned back and took a pouch from his belt. He threw it on the ground next to her, and she picked it up and opened it.

It was full of witherstalk, another month’s supply.

She raised a glare to him and saw an odd gleam in his eyes, and she opened her mouth to say something, to scream and rage at him. But he turned and left the clinic without another word.


	9. Chapter 9

He flinched and hissed out a curse, his breath escaping through his teeth as he tried not to move.

He paused for a second, and then continued pushing the curved needle through the skin of his upper lip, tugging through the thread after the metal had passed. He braced himself and repeated the motions, creating another stitch to sew his skin back together.

He fought the trembling in his hands, trying to keep them steady as he watched his work carefully in the small mirror he had hung on the wall of his quarters. He kept playing over the last hour in his mind, thinking of the ambush, of the fear he had felt to see a dagger at her throat, so distracting he hadn’t seen the man sneak up to his side. He kept picturing the way she had been so tenderly caring for him after, the way her brow had furrowed as she took in the damage.

He hadn’t really meant to do it, it had been an instinct. He saw her hand glow green, he had felt her magic surging near him and his fear had immediately made him recoil, had just _screamed_ for him to make it stop. His heart had been racing, his mouth dry, the images of a cage and Uldred before him temporarily blinding him to the sweet face of the one who was before him.

Unlike the cage in Kinloch, he’d had his lyrium in his veins, and when he called on it he’d actually been able to stop the magic before it was used on him.

Only this time, it had been healing magic. He had realized his mistake the instant it happened, but it was too late.

His cheek was still stinging from her slap, so that both sides of his face ached from blows he had taken. His right side was bruised and swollen, and he almost swore he could see the faint pink outline of fingers on his left cheek, tiny and delicate and far stronger than he had expected.

If she hadn’t hated him before, she must now. The look in her eyes had torn through him, and he’d wanted to apologize, even though he still hadn’t wanted her to use her magic on him. He just should have explained, he shouldn’t have Silenced her.

It hadn’t been how he wanted the evening to go at all. He’d been using the witherstalk as an excuse to visit her at the clinic, before inviting her back to his quarters again. He’d wanted to seek her out, to speak with her. But the ambush had driven everything else that had happened that day from his mind.

He’d almost forgotten about his discussion with the Seeker, about what she’d offered him. He wished that it hadn’t driven him to seek out Evelyn, to want to talk through his options with her. He didn’t have anyone else who would listen, though, and he’d thought maybe she’d lend him an ear if he offered to help her with the man scaring away her patients.

His regrets were interrupted when the door behind him burst open, and Rylen walked in. “Knight-Commander, are you all right? I heard from the city guard, I heard about the attack -”

His second came closer and peered at his lip, grimacing when he took in the damage and the almost comically monstrous look of the stitches he had lining the tear.

“I’m fine,” Cullen gritted out, barely moving his lips as he pushed the needle through again. “What did the guard say?”

“A few of the thugs were still alive,” Rylen sighed. “Seems they had been paid to cause problems for the new healer. Someone’s upset about their appearance in Darktown, after what happened. Guard-Captain Aveline said – wait, Commander, where are you going?”

Cullen was swearing under his breath, throwing the bloody needle on the dresser below the mirror and yanking his shirt back over his head. He grabbed his sword but didn’t bother with his armor and charged out of the office, Rylen racing after him.

“Did they say if they had anyone else working with them?” Cullen demanded as they raced through the Gallows.

“The Guard-Captain didn’t say so,” Rylen answered as he rushed to keep up with Cullen.

Cullen hurried through the streets, racing toward the Keep, intending to seek out the Guard-Captain and see what she knew. He wanted to ask her if she knew who had paid the thugs, who could possibly be after Evelyn. He was cursing himself, thinking that maybe he should have done something about the man who had been shouting outside her clinic. Maybe he’d riled someone up, maybe he was the reason why someone had hired thugs to harass Darktown’s new healer.

“Commander, I -” Rylen was following him, obviously still confused.

Cullen ignored his questioning tone and tore through the Keep, charging into Aveline’s office. He entered without knocking, and the red-haired woman looked up at him, frowning sharply from where she stood over her desk.

“Knight-Commander Cullen, what can I do for you?” she asked, her tone almost surprised. “I thought you’d be resting after the attack you suffered.”

“I’m fine,” he gritted out, sick of everyone mentioning it, like he was some invalid who couldn’t handle one fight, one injury. “What can you tell me about the thugs? Rylen said they were after the new healer?”

Aveline’s eyebrows rose and for a moment she stared at him. “So you know about the healer in Darktown? I would have assumed you would have her locked up already if you knew.”

Cullen scowled. “She’s not hurting anyone,” he muttered.

“But she’s an apostate, doesn’t that make her dangerous?” Aveline goaded him, her brows furrowing.

His jaw clenched and he looked away from her. “We’ve had other concerns than one apostate acting as a healer in Darktown, that’s all.”

“Apparently you have, since you sent _me_ to go inspect the clinic about a month ago,” she agreed.

“What about the thugs?” he growled, getting frustrated with her questions.

She sighed and shuffled the reports on her desk, pulling a sheet of parchment from their midst and handing it to him. “It seems some of the locals aren’t happy that there’s a new mage in their midst, not after what happened with the Chantry and the Gallows.”

“Were they acting alone?” he asked, skimming the report she handed him. The ink was still slightly damp.

“I’m not sure, we haven’t followed all of the leads yet, it’s been hardly an hour,” Aveline shrugged. She was frowning at him curiously. “My guards have been trying to sift through the gory mess you left outside the clinic’s doors. What were you doing there anyway?”

“Patrolling,” Cullen answered flatly.

She looked like she didn’t believe him, but she didn’t say anything.

“What are you going to do?” he inquired, raising his gaze from the report to the Guard-Captain.

“Investigate. If you’ll let my men do their work,” she said.

“No, I mean -” but he cut off his question. He couldn’t seem overeager about protecting the healer, she was already looking at him too suspiciously.

“What, Knight-Commander?” she raised an eyebrow at him.

“Keep me updated,” he said, his tone dripping with irritation as he tried to disguise his worry. “I’ll lend you any assistance you need. If you’ll excuse me.”

He hurried from the office after giving short, clipped orders to Rylen to coordinate with the city guard. He raced through Kirkwall in the darkness, hardly paying attention to his surroundings as he tried to reach Darktown.

He didn’t stop to say anything to the guards still looking over the ambush site. Instead he barged into the clinic, making the door _bang_ against the wall, the sound reverberating through the room.

Something sailed by his head and crashed into the wall next to him, shattering beside him and filling the air with the smell of herbs. He looked in the direction it had come from and saw Evelyn pulling her arm back, ready to throw something else at him.

“Damn it -” he cried ducking as the empty bottle flew over his head.

“Get out!” she screamed, looking around herself for something else to throw at him.

He slammed the door behind him and took his chance, hurrying forward and grabbing her arms before she could find anything else to throw at him.

“Take your hands off me, _Templar_!” she spat, pushing against his chest and trying to slip away from him.

He tightened his hold on her, pulling her against him so that she couldn’t twist away from him. She was still shouting curses at him, beating her fists against his chest.

“Evelyn – Evelyn, listen to me,” he shouted.

“Why should I?” she hissed, and she glared up at him, hatred in her eyes. But under the loathing there was almost something else, something like pain.

“You’re in danger, you’re -”

“I know, there’s a _Templar_ holding me hostage,” she snarled.

He stared at her for a moment, frowning. “I -”

He wasn’t quite sure what to say, feeling frustrated and hurt by her, and angrier every moment she fought him instead of just listened to what he had to say.

“What, can’t think of an excuse for why you won’t let me go? Or are you upset you didn’t get to fuck me earlier and you’re back to take your due?” she goaded him.

“No, that’s not -” he glared down at her, and noticed the odd look in her eyes. It was fear, and pain, and absolute fury. He hadn’t meant to hurt her like that, he hadn’t meant to scare her. But he needed her to listen to him. “Damn it, Evelyn, I’m trying to tell you something important, would you stop being so difficult?”

“Why? Do you just want me to give in, to be compliant like a little -”

He shook her. “Shut up!” he shouted.

Her jaw dropped but she stared up at him wide-eyed, finally stopping her struggles for a moment.

“Have you noticed anyone around, anyone suspicious?” he asked her.

“Just you,” she answered immediately.

He scowled at her. “No, I meant -”

“Someone other than a Templar sneaking into my clinic to fuck -”

“Oh for the love of – Maker, woman, you’re going to be the death of me!” he yelled.

“Well go do it somewhere else,” she told him, trying to shove his chest once more. “I’d like for you to _leave_.”

“Fine!” he growled and he finally released her. “I was trying to help you, but if you’re going to be so damned stubborn, I guess I’ll stop trying.”

He turned away, aggravated and feeling the pain in his face sharply as it began to throb at last. His cheeks ached, his lip felt like it was on fire and double its size. He considered asking her for a poultice, but his pride got the better of him and he stormed out of the clinic, letting the door bang against the wall in his wake. He ignored the stares of the guards, and found himself wishing he had an outlet for his towering rage.

He realized his favorite outlet was what he was currently storming away from, and the thought only made him more aggravated. His feet carried him through Darktown and Lowtown and into Hightown, and he thought he was heading to the Keep to talk to Aveline until he passed the Blooming Rose.

He had his coin purse…

He could afford it, and it would help this feeling, this tightness, this pain in his chest. And they wouldn’t say anything about the stitches in his lip, they wouldn’t be as frustrating or maddening as she was.

He remembered one of the whores he’d visited before, almost as short as she was, and maybe they had a wig for her, a black one –

He shook himself and let out a frustrated growl, running his hands through his hair as he turned away from the brothel door. What had she done to him, that the only one he wanted was her, that the only one he wanted to seek out when he felt this way was her?

He cursed loudly and quickly walked away, making his way to the Keep to speak with Aveline again.


	10. Chapter 10

Evelyn couldn’t sleep, the horrible feeling of the Silence still causing her hands to flutter and her heart to race. It had been years since she’d felt that feeling, years since she’d been that frightened. She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, trying to force out the memories, to force out the helplessness.

She wasn’t that scared little girl anymore. She wasn’t that defenseless child facing down an overzealous Templar.

She was a grown woman, and she’d simply been trying to help him. She wondered at his reaction though, and now that the _oppressive_ weight had left her she was starting to feel like maybe she’d been wrong.

He was a Templar. Maybe she should have just asked permission before she used magic on him.

But now it was a matter of pride, and she wasn’t going to be the one to apologize first.

 _Ungrateful_.

That was all she could think, the word repeating itself in her mind. What else could she have been doing but trying to heal him? And how ungrateful of him to just Silence her, as if he expected her to attack him.

If she’d wanted to do that, she would have done it ages ago, when he found her at her clinic. Instead, she’d propositioned him, she’d decided to trade her body for her freedom.

She gritted her teeth and threw herself on her side on her small cot, frustrated. She still almost wasn’t sure what had made her do it, except that she’d seen an opportunity. She had felt certain he would accept, and she just wanted to stay out of the Gallows.

But she knew that was a lie she was telling herself. When she’d made the deal, she’d been thinking of the previous night together, of the first time he’d taken her in his quarters. She’d been thinking about how he’d felt, and how he’d made her feel, how she’d felt so lost in the movements of him within her.

She groaned and flopped onto her stomach, burying her face in her thin, lumpy pillow.

Void take her, she couldn’t sleep without him anymore.

And yet right now all she wanted to do was slap him again.

She’d still been too angry with him when he’d come by, still torn up and thinking about the memories his Silence had brought to the surface. But now she was wondering what had been so important that he’d come running back to the clinic without his armor and only his sword, his lip only half-stitched.

Something clanked outside her door, almost like armor, and she sat up with a start, listening intently. She could see shifting shadows in the meager light beyond the door, and her heart began to pound against her ribs.

He’d said she was in danger.

Either that, or this was him sneaking into her room again to wake her up and fuck her.

She clenched her jaw and steadied herself, slipping out of her cot and flexing her fingers, sparks crackling between her knuckles and fingertips as she approached the door. She took a deep breath when she reached the door, and then she slowly edged it open.

She scowled when it creaked loudly, and whoever was in front of her door spun to face her.

They were wearing the armor of the city guard.

“Is everything all right?” the man asked her.

“I – can I help you?” she asked, quelling the magic at her fingertips as she frowned up at the man.

“No, not unless – I mean, not unless I can help you,” he mirrored her frown.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m on guard for the clinic,” he answered, putting his hands behind his back. “After the attempted attack today, we’ve been ordered to station a guard here.”

“Whose order?” she asked, surprised.

“The Guard-Captain’s, although I understand that the request was made by the Knight-Commander,” the man shrugged slightly.

Evelyn shut her eyes for a moment, an odd sort of indignant anger rushing through her.

Did he think she couldn’t take care of herself? Or was he trying to keep her stuck in her clinic?

“And what are your orders? No one in or out? Am I supposed to stay here?” she gritted out.

“No, serah,” the man looked perplexed. “They just want to make sure no one causes you any trouble.”

Evelyn wasn’t sure what to make of that, and she hesitated. Maybe he’d meant it, maybe she was in danger. If he’d gotten the Guard-Captain to agree to station a guard outside the clinic…

She thought hard, turning over everything that had happened. She hadn’t seen how the fight had started, how the ambush had begun. Maybe they had been headed her way, and he’d rushed in to stop them.

She hadn’t thought to ask, she’d been too worried about his bleeding, torn lip.

Before she could stop herself, she was closing the door to the clinic and tearing through the pathways of Darktown. She could hear the guard calling after her but she ignored him, racing through into Lowtown, trying to cling to the shadows as she made her way through the city.

It was almost sunrise, and there was a faint glow on the horizon, the beginning of green light heralding the dawn. It helped light her path, and she could hear the city begin to stir to prepare for the day. She hadn’t given any thought to the fact that she was running through the streets in her thin night shift, but it was too late now.

When she reached his quarters she didn’t pause to knock and raced inside, quickly shutting the door behind her.

There was hardly any light, the single candle on his desk almost having burnt all the way down. She looked around, trying to see when she felt an arm snatch out and grab her. She gave a short cry as she was pulled toward the desk, toward the light. When she looked up she saw Cullen frowning down at her.

He’d never finished stitching up his lip, and his cheek and chin were purple and black from where he’d been hit. He had dark circles under his eyes, making him look harsher as he glared down at her.

“What are you doing out? The streets at this time of night aren’t safe -” he began to scold her.

“The streets are never safe for me,” she returned, holding a steady gaze. “You put a guard at my door. Why?”

“You didn’t listen to me, so I had to,” he told her, the tone of his voice accusing but also, somehow, sweet.

“I – I’m -” she stopped herself before the _sorry_ slipped out of her mouth. She still refused to apologize first. He raised an eyebrow at her and she pursed her lips before she asked, again, “Why?”

“You’re in danger, I tried to tell you,” he heaved a sigh. “Are you ready to listen, now?”

She nodded and he released her arm, reaching his hand up to rub his brow.

“Those thugs were sent to try to harass you, to try to get you to close up the clinic,” he said.

“Sent after me? By whom?” she stared at him, thoroughly shocked.

“We don’t know, but for the time being, I think it’s best if you keep a low profile,” he raised his head from the hand that had been rubbing his brow. “The city guard is looking into it, they have a few leads. And I have a few of my own, I -”

“ _You’re_ going to investigate who was trying to attack an _apostate_?” she asked, unable to resist.

“I’m trying to investigate who’s trying to attack _you_ ,” he growled, lifting a finger and pointing at her to emphasize his point. “But if you’d rather I let them hurt you, I have other things to do with my time -”

“No, I just – I didn’t think it was the job of the Templars to help an apostate like this,” she shrugged.

“It’s a Templar’s duty to protect,” he insisted, and she noticed an earnest, resolute quality to his voice as he said it.

“And that includes mages?” she asked softly, her voice barely a whisper.

“Yes, of course it does,” he answered. He had an odd look in his eyes and she furrowed her brows.

She didn’t know what to say.

“Evelyn, I – I know -” he hesitated.

He simply stared at her for a long moment, and she considered leaving, having gotten her answer about why there was a guard outside the clinic. But the look in his eyes had her rooted to the spot.

He slid a hand along her cheek and into her hair, his movements gentle as his eyes moved over her face.

“Evelyn,” he murmured, and he began to lean forward to kiss her.

“Wait, Cullen, your lip,” she pressed her hands to his chest and tried to push him away but he twisted his hand into her hair and wrapped his other around her waist and crushed her to him. “Don’t – wait, you’ll -”

But he pressed his lips to her, and she could tell he winced slightly. It didn’t seem to discourage him, and he slanted his mouth against hers and slid his tongue between her lips. He flicked it against hers, and soon his kiss turned into mostly tongue and teeth, nipping and licking at every bit of her lips and tongue. She moaned, fisting her hands in his loose shirt, torn between wanting to push him away and pull him closer.

He took a few steps with her, turning her and backing her to the desk, pressing her thighs against it. He kept pressing her until she laid back on the desk, and he leaned over her, running his tongue down her neck as his hands fumbled with the bottom of her shift. He slid it up her thighs until it pooled at her waist, and she moaned.

“Cullen, I – wait, I -” she wasn’t even sure what she was saying, didn’t know what she wanted him to wait for. All she knew was that she felt like she couldn’t breathe, like her head was spinning, and she couldn’t focus on anything.

He was undoing his breeches, his hot mouth still nibbling and sucking at the skin on her neck before he slid it lower. He bit her gently through the thin material of her shift and she mewled, the fabric becoming hot, wet, plastered to her with his greedy tongue moving against it. He had freed himself from his breeches and braced his hands on either side of her head as he rolled his hips into her, grinding his hard cock against her.

“Evelyn,” he purred in her ear. “I can tell you want me, I can tell you want me to fuck you even though you said ‘wait.’”

She whimpered as he rubbed his length against her slit, dragging along her excited pearl as he did. He was sliding along, spreading her slick excitement with his cock, until they were both wet and moaning.

“Tell me,” he murmured.

“No, Cullen, I -”

“Tell me,” he repeated, more firmly.

“No,” she whispered.

He dug his fingers into her thighs and pulled them wide, settling himself more closely between them, and he bit her neck until she was sure she’d have a lasting mark the next day. He was still grinding himself along her, and the sensation was making her legs begin to tremble.

“Say it, say you want my cock in you – tell me you want to feel me bury myself inside you,” he said, and he traced her ear with his tongue.

“I – I want you to,” she gasped, her voice barely audible. She could feel her cheeks flush, and she bit her lip, hating herself.

But when he began to thrust into her, pushing himself in with several hard jerks of his hips, she forgot all about that feeling of shame.

“Maker, you’re perfect,” he groaned, pressing his forehead to the crook of her neck as he began to thrust. He was rolling his hips, withdrawing until he nearly fell out before he slammed himself back into her, causing her to cry out. The desk was creaking slightly, the wooden legs dragging rhythmically on the stone as he moved within her.

He was pressing against her, nearly suffocating her until she couldn’t move. All she could do was lie on the desk, her legs wrapped tightly around his hips as if she was holding on for dear life as he fucked into her. She was whimpering, mewling his name as she felt the edges of her vision blackening as she began to clench around him.

“ _Yes_ – Evelyn, you’re close – Maker,” he moaned against her throat. “I want to hear you, I want you to say my name -”

She sobbed it again without meaning to, feeling herself falling apart under the intensity of his thrusts and the sound of his panting breaths, the sounds he was making as he enjoyed her, as he found his own release inside her.

It felt like it took an eternity for them to come back to themselves, for her to blink her eyes and look around, realizing what had just happened.

She hadn’t meant to, she’d really only just come to see why he had a guard at the clinic. But every time he touched her it was like all of her self control went out the window.

“Stay here,” he murmured against her.

“No, I need to go -”

“No, Evelyn, someone hired thugs to scare you off,” he lifted his head and stared down at her. “For all you know they meant to kill you. Stay here.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Is that an order?”

“It’s a request,” he said softly.

It was the tone of his voice that made her nod her head slowly.

Maker curse that voice of his, she mused bitterly. It would be the death of her, she was certain of it.


	11. Chapter 11

When he woke up a few hours later, he felt perfectly contented. The front of him was warm, almost too hot, sweaty against something. He realized it was Evelyn, tucked securely in his arms, her naked body pressed tight against his until there was no space to breathe between them. They were bound together by sweat, slick against his skin as he shifted slightly but tried to keep her as close to him as he could.

He found himself relieved that she had finally come to her senses and listened to him. He was glad too that Aveline had not only heard his request but fulfilled it so quickly, stationing a guard at the clinic within an hour of discussing it with him. She had raised her eyebrow at him, but had not asked him why he wanted to protect the healer so much. He was hoping she kept it that way.

Evelyn stirred in his arms, and he squeezed her more tightly to him. He peered down at her face as she opened her eyes, and when she glanced up at him she smiled.

“Good morning,” he murmured.

She stretched a little sleepily, but he made sure he kept her within his arms. He wasn’t ready to give her up to the day yet. She turned her face up to him, and the desire was too strong to resist.

He cupped her face with one hand and leaned down to capture her lips in a tender kiss.

And jolting, horrible agony greeted him when he pressed his bruised, still torn lip to her mouth.

“Cullen, are you all right?” she asked, concern evident in her tone as he groaned and rolled away from her, one hand over his eyes.

He was trying to brace himself against the pain, and he felt her propping herself on her elbow so she could look down at him. Her fingers brushed lightly over his bruises on his face, and he could tell she was inspecting the damage.

She heaved a sigh. “I wish you’d let me heal that for you,” she murmured. “Or at least let me give you a poultice or a potion to help it heal.”

He rubbed his temples, and once the throbbing in his lip was lessened he lowered it so he could look at her. “I’m – you’re right, I should have let you give me something for it.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, closely regarding him as she absorbed his answer. “But not let me heal it?”

He hesitated, unsure of how he could answer. “I – I don’t trust magic,” he confessed.

For a moment she almost looked surprised, but then she shook her head lightly. When she spoke, her voice was gentle and soothing. “Don’t you think I would have hurt you already if I meant to? All the time alone together, the first time you came charging into the clinic after I’d robbed you? When you looked ready to throttle me?”

He frowned as he stared up into her unusual, lightning colored eyes. “I – I guess I didn’t think about it that way,” he said slowly. “I’m sorry – I’m sorry for my reaction. It was instinct. I’ve never had healing magic used on me.”

She raised her eyebrows a bit and an interesting look came upon her face.  “It’s all right, I understand. I should have asked first,” she held his gaze for a moment. “I’m sorry I slapped you.”

He chuckled. “You’re much stronger than you look, I think my cheek still smarts from it.”

She giggled and the sound flowed through him, making him close his eyes for a moment to enjoy it. It sounded carefree and relaxed, so different from how she normally carried herself, since she was always so guarded and reserved. He wondered if he was catching a glimpse at the real her, beneath the walls she had erected around herself.

“You know, I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you this, but Silences hurt,” she said, but her voice still sounded light with laughter. “So I was just getting even with you.”

“I’d already taken a man’s fist to the face for you, did you still need to get even with me?” he teased. But he felt guilty, thinking that he’d hurt her. He hadn’t meant to, but suddenly her reaction made much more sense to him.

She frowned at him, abruptly serious as she contemplated something. “Do you – do you really think those thugs were heading my way?”

Cullen sighed. “It seems that way,” he told her. “I saw them trying to organize and head in the direction of the clinic, so I went to try to stop them.”

For a moment she just stared at him. “You tried to take them all on by yourself, just for me?”

“I – well, yes,” he shrugged. They’d meant to hurt her, and it was his job to protect her – and not just from the Gallows.

She held his gaze for a  moment, a soft look in her eyes. “Thank you, Cullen,” she murmured, and she gave him a sweet smile that took his breath away. She bent and pressed her lips to his cheek before she finally began to pull herself out of his arms. “I should get to the clinic -”

He pushed himself up as he watched her clamber out of the bed. “No, stay here -”

“Cullen, we both have work to do, we can’t stay in bed all day.”

“We could just this once,” he said suggestively, but when the corner of his mouth pulled up in a grin he scowled, pain throbbing through his face again.

She sighed as she watched him grimace, and put her hands on her hips. “If anything, I should go get some things from the clinic to help you with that,” she told him. She started looking around for her clothes, but then saw her night shift and groaned, throwing her head back on her shoulders. Her long hair hung down and swung over the round, bare cheeks of her rear and for a moment he was distracted by the sight of her naked body. “Damn it,” she muttered.

“I might have something you can wear, if you’re insistent on leaving,” he told her.

She raised an eyebrow at him and pursed her lips. “Something from another paramour?”

The tone of her voice was interesting, and he wondered if it almost sounded like jealousy. For a moment he contemplated telling her yes just to see what her reaction was.

“No, I just – I may have an extra shirt and some breeches for you,” he shrugged.

She looked at him doubtfully and said, “Your breeches won’t fit me, you’re a giant compared to me.”

“We’ll make it work,” he chuckled and he finally swung his legs out of bed.

He helped find a fresh shirt and some smaller breeches for her, luckily still having a pair from when he first came from Kinloch. He’d been so thin, skin and bones and scared of everything, but now the breeches had to be about three times too small for him. They were still large on Evelyn, but he helped tie them with a bit of rope around her tiny waist and roll up the legs so she wouldn't trip.

“Don’t you eat?” he asked her, frowning as he took in the slim waist and prominent ribs before she lowered the large, loose shirt she was wearing again.

“When I have the money to do so,” she shrugged.

“Are you – do you still need -” he hesitated. She hadn’t wanted to accept his help, or take his money. At least, not when he offered it freely to her. He wondered if she thought it would make her feel like a whore, like he was paying her for her services. Really, he just worried about her, and the way he could feel all of her bones every time he held her to him.

“No, I’m fine,” she shook her head, and he thought she flushed. “Thank you for the clothes, I’ll get them back to you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he told her. He was momentarily distracted by the sight of her in his shirt, something about the sight making heat pool in his belly, like a primal urge, a possessive response.

She was wearing his shirt.

 _His_.

He thought of the word as applying to more than the shirt, feeling like the shirt she wore was helping mark her, helping claim her. He frowned and continued tugging on his own clothes, trying to clear his mind. He wasn’t sure why he felt so fiercely proud to see her in his shirt, or why it made him start to harden in his breeches.

“Come back this evening,” he told her. “If you’d like, I’ll come get you so you don’t have to walk through the streets alone.”

“No, it’s fine, you stationed a guard outside -”

“Evelyn, you’re staying here tonight. I can’t stop you going during the day, but you will come here tonight, so I can keep you safe,” he demanded. He didn’t mean to sound so commanding, but he got an image in his mind of something happening to her and he couldn’t shake the fear. He remembered the dagger pressed to her throat, a thin trickle of blood running down from where it was touching her skin.

He pulled her into his arms and twisted a hand into her hair, arching her neck so that it was exposed to him. He slid his tongue along the spot, along where the dagger had cut her. Or rather, where he knew it had cut her, since she had healed it and there was no longer a mark. He pressed a feather light kiss to the spot, and then raised his eyes to hold her gaze. She was frowning at him, looking confused, but her pupils were dilated and her breaths were slightly shaky.

“Promise me,” he murmured.

“Yes,” she sighed, her voice trembling slightly. “I will, I’ll come here tonight.”

“Thank you,” he said, and he released her.

She took a moment and straightened the shirt she was wearing, seeming like she was taking a deep breath to steady herself. She headed for the door without looking at him, but he followed her across the room. He needed to speak with Rylen, but she turned and looked back at him, as if confused why he was following her. He gestured for her to continue walking and she did.

She seemed hesitant to be seen leaving with him, and she looked around the hall before she hurried out the door of his room.

“Wait,” he said, and he tugged on her hand to pull her back to him on impulse.

“Cullen, let me go, someone will see – I need to go -”

“Just one more kiss,” he purred, unsure of what had come over him. He slid a hand along her cheek into her hair, tilting her face up to his.

Footsteps sounded down the hall and her eyes widened and she pulled herself away before he could stop her. She turned and fled down the hallway, ducking her head so that her long hair covered it as she raced away.

He scowled and turned to face the person coming, and saw Rylen and the Seeker, Cassandra, approaching him.

“Commander,” Rylen greeted him, and Cullen noticed he was frowning. “Seeker Pentaghast was hoping to speak with you again.”

Cullen turned his gaze to the Seeker and saw that she was frowning down the hallway after Evelyn. “Seeker Pentaghast, how may I help you today?”

“I was hoping to speak some more with you about my offer, Commander,” the Seeker said. “That is, if you’re not too busy.”

There was suggestion in the woman’s tone and Cullen tried to fight the way his cheeks began to heat. He cleared his throat. “I still need more time to consider, Seeker. I’m afraid something came up -”

“Yes, I heard about the attack yesterday,” her dark eyes moved over his face, taking in the bruising and the stitches. “Are you -”

“I’m fine,” he gritted out, still annoyed to be asked.

“Well, if we may step into your office? Perhaps you can tell me about it,” she clasped her hands behind her back, and for a moment he stared at her, considering.

He wanted to put his armor on and go see Aveline, to go see what progress had been made. He wanted to go to the clinic and inspect it, to see if the man who had been harassing Evelyn’s patients was nearby so he could confront him, and see what he knew. He wanted to follow his own leads, the suspicions he had about the thugs.

But instead he clenched his jaw and motioned with his hand for the Seeker to precede him into the office before he turned to Rylen.

“Please go speak with Guard-Captain Aveline, Rylen, and see what progress has been made on the clinic’s attack,” he ordered his second. Rylen nodded and hurried off, and Cullen took a deep breath before he reentered his office.

 

 

 

His conversation had taken longer than he thought, spending most of the day listening to her and speaking with her about what she intended, about what she wanted from him. She told him more of what Varric had relayed to her, she asked him questions to fill in some of the gaps of what had happened. She was trying to get a feel for what had been happening inside the Gallows, a perspective Varric couldn’t provide.

Now he was irritated as he left the keep, thinking about how so much of his day had been wasted reliving the last ten years for the Seeker. He should have been out pursuing his leads, checking on Evelyn. Aveline hadn’t had much to report, hadn’t had any progress on their leads. She had instead been suspicious about the way Evelyn had run away from her guard in the middle of the night, after she heard that he had requested he be stationed at her door.

Cullen had looked away and pointedly ignored the woman’s inquisitive stare.

When he reached the clinic he nodded at the guard silently and walked through the door, realizing that this was also going to get reported back to Aveline. He clenched his jaw and decided he’d need a good excuse.

Evelyn was busy packing up a small satchel and looked up when she saw him enter. “Hello,” she called. “Just a moment, I just need a few more things.”

He stopped beside her and frowned down at what she was packing. It was medicines, herbs, poultices, potions – and a set of her clothes. Somehow the sight stirred something in him again, until he was aware of heat in his cheeks.

“The guards are going to start talking,” he teased gently.

She smiled. “I already told him I’ve been helping at the Gallows, that there’s a fever going around in the mages and Templars that are left.”

He raised his eyebrows. “That was good thinking.”

She shrugged. “I’ve gotten good at having to think up excuses and lies.”

“I suppose you would have, yes,” he agreed, realizing the life of an apostate had to be a precarious one. He’d never given much thought to everything she’d had to do before she had arrived in Kirkwall, what she may have been through. He knew she’d taken to robbing men, considering how they’d met. But he found himself curious about how she’d started doing that – and also why he was the first and apparently only she’d actually taken to bed before she robbed him. He’d never thought to ask, and frankly he wasn’t sure how to do so.

She finished packing the satchel and stood, turning to face him with a small grin on her face. “All right, I’m ready.”

They made their way out of the clinic, and he nodded to the guard while she said a cheerful good night. Silently they walked through Kirkwall, and he found it strange how comfortable they both seemed. He led her to his quarters, and was surprised they didn’t pass anyone. Once they were inside he began to strip out of his armor, feeling stifled by its weight.

That had been happening more frequently recently, ever since what had happened with Meredith. Nothing had changed, the armor was the same.

But he felt irritated to wear it, and couldn’t wait to take it off as soon as he could.

“Have you eaten?” he asked as he hung his armor on its stand in the corner.

“Yes, I had some stew earlier,” she said. “I didn’t have as many patients today, I couldn’t tell if it was the news of the attack or the guard stationed outside the door. But it meant I actually had time for dinner.”

He nodded, wondering as well at the change in her clinic’s business. He stored the knowledge away for later, for when he had time to follow his own leads.

“When you’re done taking off your armor, come sit at your desk,” she told him. He glanced over his shoulder and saw her pulling the items she’d packed out of her satchel, laying them on the desk like she was prepping.

He sighed but followed her instructions, and after he sat she wet a cloth and began to wipe his face with it.

“You should have finished stitching this,” she sighed. “The lip isn’t going to heal as straight now.”

He shrugged. “It’s not important.”

She clucked her tongue and hummed her disapproval, but didn’t say anything else about it. She uncorked a small vial and passed it to him. “Elfroot, for the pain, and to help speed up the healing,” she told him, and she bent over to look more closely at his cheek while he drained the potion. “Maker, it’s still so swollen…”

She was muttering to herself, running her fingers over his face as delicately as she could so that she didn’t hurt him. Her touch was sending shivers down his spine, and he was peering up into her eyes, taking in every detail of their color in the candlelight. He wanted to kiss her, but she seemed to be working so intently he didn’t want to interrupt her.

She turned away from him and began to prepare a poultice. “Here, hold this to your cheek, it’ll help with the swelling,” she told him, and he took it from her.

“For how long?” he asked.

“Just for a little bit,” she shrugged and began to pack up her herbs once more. “It works fast, but the injury is rather bad. I still wish you’d -” But she stopped speaking and simply shook her head.

She moved around his quarters after she finished repacking, and he tried to read through some of the rebuilding reports on his desk while she did. The sight of her moving around so naturally, as if she belonged there, was distracting to him. She’d taken off her shoes, walking barefoot as she straightened some items in his room.

“Are you – are you cleaning?” he asked her suddenly.

She looked up sheepishly. “This is your office, and it’s a disaster,” she told him. “How you can get anything done in here, when it's this disorganized -”

He grumbled under his breath and went back to reading his report. “You don’t need to organize for me.”

“What else should I do?” she asked. “I’m not just going to sit in bed and wait, and I don’t have anything else to do.”

He chuckled and stood, walking over to the small pile of books against one wall. He picked up a small tome and passed it to her. “Can you read?” he asked.

She nodded and took the book from him, flipping through a few pages before she raised her gaze to his again, one eyebrow quirked in question. “A poetry book?”

He felt himself blush and went to sit behind his desk again, still holding the poultice to his bruised cheek. She was right, it felt like it was helping, cooling and numbing the throbbing pain. “I – I like poetry, that’s all. But it will be more interesting than cleaning my office.”

“You like poetry?” she asked, sounding surprised.

He cleared his throat and didn’t answer.

She walked to the bed and stripped down to her smalls. She curled up and leaned back against the wall, tucking herself into the sheets. She opened the book of poems and began reading, and Cullen suddenly couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight she posed.

She looked _right_ , somehow, sitting and reading in his bed while he worked at his desk. He couldn’t concentrate, and when his cheek finally felt much better he set the poultice aside and rubbed his eyes. He wouldn’t be able to get any work done, he knew that, and he decided the idea of joining her sounded far more appealing.

He stripped out of his clothes and stretched, and he noticed her glancing up from where she was reading, furtively watching as he moved around the room. He felt stiff from the day before, and tried to fight the smirk that wanted to cross his face when he got a wicked idea.

He began stretching again, flexing all of his muscles to work out the kinks and stiffness in his arms and back. He held each position, groaning slightly as he felt the stiffness leaving his arms, just the right amount of _pain_ as the soreness eased in each muscle.

A soft _thump_ sounded behind him and he turned to see her quickly fumbling to pick up the book of poems from where it had fallen on the bed. A flush was creeping up her neck from her chest, and she was biting her lower lip.

He had to fight laughter, and he rolled his shoulders as he sauntered toward the bed. She was watching him from behind her long eyelashes, trying not to let him know she was staring as he approached. He stood beside the bed for a moment, and then reached over to the book and took it from her hands, turning it so that it was the right way up again.

Her blush spread to her cheeks finally, likely embarrassed at the fact that the book had been upside down, that it meant he knew she'd been watching him. That he knew she was likely aroused by the sight of him stretching and flexing his muscles.

He finished stripping out of his breeches and got into the sheets beside her, and for a moment she stared unseeing at the book in her hands. Then suddenly she threw it aside and crawled over him, pushing his shoulders back on the bed and leaning over him, straddling him and pressing herself down onto him.

She was kissing his neck, she gently nipped it and ran her tongue along the spot under his ear where his pulse was racing. She twisted a hand into his hair, gently tugging it as she nibbled his earlobe. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her to him as he enjoyed the attention she was raining down on him.

She’d never kissed him like this, she’d never slid her mouth along his neck or his chest as she was. She nipped his chin, dragging his stubble covered flesh through her teeth as she moaned.

“Evelyn, take off your smalls -”

“Stop being a _Commander_ , for just a few moments,” she murmured breathlessly against his neck. “You don’t always have to be in charge, bossing me around like I work at the Blooming Rose.”

He raised his eyebrows at her, but realized she was speaking generally, since there was no way she knew that almost all of his sexual experience had come from his visits to the brothel. He grinned slightly at her and put his hands behind the back of his head, reclining on the pillows as he stared up at her.

“You like it when I do, though, I think,” he told her, his voice husky.

She flushed a little and didn’t reply, instead leaning back over him to continue her attentions. She pressed kisses along his jaw, careful in the areas where he was bruised, and then she kissed him on the side of his mouth that wasn’t torn. Her kisses were becoming more urgent, and she pulled his bottom lip between her teeth, running her tongue along it.

She finally sat back and removed her breast band and her smalls, and then she resumed her place over him. She dragged her tongue along his collar bone, one hand propping her up as the other reached down and took his heavy length in her small hand. He groaned at the contact, closing his eyes as she pumped him a few times, spreading the excitement leaking from his tip over him until the obscene sound of her hand moving on him began to fill the silence.

He groaned her name and saw her smile above him, her eyes half-lidded with desire as she positioned herself over him. She guided him to her and covered him with her wet heat in one stroke, eliciting deep moans from both of them.

She’d never done this, she’d never taken the initiative and acted with so much desire. She’d always just responded to him, listened to his demands and done what he asked of her. He knew she enjoyed herself, he could feel how she clenched around him as soon as he thrust into her as if she was already close every time. But this – feeling her move above him, feeling her act out her own desires and ideas…

His mind was reeling, his heart racing as he watched her bounce herself on him, her tantalizing breasts heaving with each of her movements. He gripped her hips and helped lift her, and she moaned as she quickened her pace.

“Evelyn,” he moaned, and the corners of her mouth tugged up when she heard the way he said her name. He did it again and she cried out and he felt her flutter around him.

He pushed himself up until he was sitting, wrapping his arms around her, one hand gripping her waist and the other sliding into her hair. He slid his tongue along her throat and she whimpered, her fingers digging into his upper arms where she was grasping him.

“Cullen,” she panted, each of her thrusts against him accented with a moan. “Oh, Maker, I’m – you feel so good, you’re so -”

But he reached a hand down and slid a finger between them, stroking her bundle of nerves while he sucked and nipped the column of her throat, and he never got to hear what he was. Instead he felt her fall apart and his mind went blank, enjoying the sensation of her throbbing around him.

“Cullen – darling, yes, yes,” she cried out, and he pulled away from where he was leaving wet pink marks on her throat.

Her head was thrown back and she was so lost in how she was falling apart, he wasn’t quite sure she knew what she had said, what she had called him.

He groaned, the echo of her voice calling him that playing through his mind and he felt himself throb within her. She was still jerking sporadically against him, coming down from her own release when he found his, and he nearly shouted her name as he thrust up into her and filled her. His head snapped forward against her collar bone, and when they had both stilled he simply held her to him, his arms nearly crushing her. Hers were wrapped around his neck, one hand trailing softly through his hair as she tried to regain her senses.

She giggled breathlessly, but didn’t say anything. He finally collapsed back on the bed, bringing her with him, and he held her tight on top of him. He never wanted to let her go, and he didn’t as they both finally began to breathe deeply and fell into deep, exhausted slumber.


	12. Chapter 12

Evelyn didn’t hear her visitor at first, and it took two tries at clearing her throat before Evelyn turned around to look at her. It was the red-headed guard, the one who had visited before and hadn’t done anything about her presence in the clinic.

“Can I help you?” Evelyn asked, straightening from where she was checking her stock of herbs. Again, her business was slower, less people coming in for healing than usual. She still wasn’t quite sure what had changed.

“I was hoping I could speak with you, if you had some time,” the guard said.

Evelyn nodded and wiped her hands on a cloth before she threw it aside on a table. “Of course,” she said. “I’m Evelyn, by the way. We didn’t really introduce ourselves, last time we spoke.”

“Aveline,” the guard answered. “I’m the Guard-Captain. I’ve been coordinating with the Knight-Commander about the attack.”

Evelyn kept her face neutral as she gave a slight nod. “Yes, the – guard outside said that you two were working together.”

Aveline didn’t say anything for a moment. Instead, she stared at Evelyn as if evaluating and considering her. “I understand you were involved in the ambush?”

Evelyn nodded. “Yes, I was closing up for the day and heard a commotion,” she sighed. “I ran out to help, it was just Cu – the Knight-Commander alone.”

Aveline frowned for a moment, as if she’d caught the way that Evelyn had started to call Cullen by his first name. “Do you know what the Knight-Commander was doing down here? It seems like fortuitous timing that he was nearby.”

“It certainly was for me, if those thugs really were heading towards the clinic,” Evelyn shrugged. She was trying to keep her cool, but Aveline looked shrewd. She was hoping she didn’t give anything away, and was trying her best to keep herself focused.

“Do you have any idea who may have sent the thugs your way?” Aveline asked.

“There’s been a man yelling outside the clinic, for a few days,” Evelyn answered. “He was trying to scare people off, trying to warn them about the dangers of magic, about what the last healer did.”

Aveline’s cheeks flexed and she pursed her lips, like she was thinking. “When was the last time he was here?”

“The day of the attack, actually,” Evelyn folded her arms and frowned. “He left when my patients began to ignore him and sought my help anyway.”

Aveline nodded slightly and began to pace around the clinic, looking at everything in sight. “Do you think he could have sent them here?”

Evelyn shrugged. “I have no idea who may have,” she admitted. “The man seems more like a crazy person, just a – a troubled soul. But I’ve just been healing, I – I haven’t had any chance to anger anyone or make any enemies.”

Aveline turned to face her, frowning. “I’m curious,” she said slowly. “My guard said you’ve been, ah, helping out at the Gallows? At night?”

Evelyn felt her cheeks heat, and knew that a flush was threatening to spread up her neck into her cheeks. “I have been, yes,” she lied. “There was a fever that -”

“I’m sorry to be so blunt,” Aveline interrupted. “But I can’t help but notice that there seems to be an – intense interest in your presence here from the Knight-Commander.”

Evelyn bit the inside of her cheek and hugged her arms more tightly against her chest. She couldn’t answer, but Aveline got a look on her face like she didn't exactly expect one.

Aveline wandered through the clinic, and stopped beside the small stock of herbs beside Evelyn’s cot. She picked up a satchel and opened it, and Evelyn realized too late what it was and stepped forward, holding out a hand, her mouth open, but no words came out.

It was her supply of witherstalk.

Aveline sighed and set the satchel down before she began to rub her forehead with a hand. “Evelyn, I – what is the nature of your -”

“I’m sorry, Guard-Captain, but that’s private,” Evelyn interrupted. “My personal life is not why the thugs were sent to the clinic.”

“We can’t rule it out,” Aveline shrugged. “But I’ll be honest, my concern isn’t related to the attack. I’m – well, more concerned about you.”

Evelyn raised an eyebrow. “I’m fine, except for apparent threats on my life.”

Aveline stared at her, as if thinking hard. “Evelyn, if – if someone has taken advantage, I hope you know that I would take it seriously. I would help you.”

Evelyn stared at the other woman for a moment, unsure of how to respond. She didn’t want to confirm her relationship with Cullen, but she had a feeling the other woman already knew. Somehow, she hated the idea that he was being suspected of coercing her, of trapping her in a deal.

It was odd to her, considering what they had _was_ a deal. Or at least, it had started that way.

Now, she wasn’t quite sure what it was. She didn’t feel like Cullen was waiting to drag her to the Gallows for being an apostate anymore if she refused him. Yet they were still seeing each other, every night...

She shook her head, trying to clear the confusing distraction from her mind.

“No one has taken advantage, Aveline,” she said finally. “But I appreciate your concern.”

The other woman pursed her lips and held her gaze, but nodded after a few moments of consideration. “I’ll take your word for it,” she conceded. She clasped her hands behind her back as she faced Evelyn again. “Have you noticed anything else? Did you notice anything during the attack, or after? Anything before?”

“Honestly, besides the man yelling for a few days, I haven’t noticed anything,” Evelyn shrugged again. She was relieved Aveline had dropped her questions about Cullen, at least. “I wish I could be more helpful. I’ve just been healing, trying to keep my head down otherwise, like you said.”

“When I said that, I was trying to keep you from attracting the attention from the Templars,” Aveline chuckled slightly. “Seeing as they’re well aware of you and have been instructed not to do anything, apparently…I suppose we need to look for anyone else who might be angry about the appearance of another apostate in Darktown.”

Evelyn felt her cheeks flush slightly but cleared her throat and looked around the clinic. “I’m afraid I can’t help you with that. I wish I knew more.”

Aveline heaved a sigh. “Very well,” she said. “We’ll continue trying to get to the bottom of this. Anti-mage sentiment being what it is…I’d hate to see it spread beyond trying to attack a lone apostate to something…more.”

Evelyn nodded. “I appreciate the concern, Guard-Captain,” she smiled. “And I appreciate the guard you've stationed here, although I’m not entirely certain it’s necessary. I can handle myself.”

“Well, I might agree, considering you don’t seem to be here at night to guard,” Aveline mused. Evelyn felt her mouth go dry, and swallowed hard. “I’d much rather reallocate the guard to another patrol. That is – if you think that will continue?”

Evelyn sighed and decided to be honest. The woman was far too observant. “It’s probably no longer necessary, you’re right.”

Aveline nodded but had no other reaction, not a smirk or a frown or any other acknowledgement. “Very well. In the meantime, please be careful. And if anything else happens, please – let me know.”

“I will,” Evelyn smiled. “Thank you for following up, Aveline.”

 

* * *

 

 

Cullen was beginning to get a headache, the longer he stared at the report in his hand. Rylen had passed it along an hour ago, but so far Cullen hadn’t made any progress comprehending what it said. Rebuilding Kirkwall was the furthest thing from his mind at the moment.

He was mulling over the Seeker’s offer, which she had come by to extend to him again that day. It hadn’t been a long conversation this time, but she had stared at him as if she was trying to peer into his soul.

“It’s an important offer, Knight-Commander,” she had said. “What’s keeping you in Kirkwall?”

He hadn’t had an answer for her. He’d only been able to ask for more time to consider.

Rebuilding, he’d initially thought. He felt responsible for the state Kirkwall was in. He wanted to see his work rebuilding the city through, he wanted to finish what he’d started.

But she was offering him a chance to fix so much more, to help protect the world from the ramifications of his mistake. It was incredibly tempting.

And he realized that it wasn’t rebuilding that was holding him back.

 _Evelyn_.

He didn’t want to leave, not while she was here. He certainly couldn’t leave while she was in danger. If he remained Knight-Commander, he could protect her. He could make sure nothing happened to her.

He frowned sharply when he thought that, but couldn’t continue his musings when he was interrupted by a knock on the door. “Come in,” he called, feeling exasperated.

The door opened wide and Aveline marched in, a curious look on her face.

“Guard-Captain,” he greeted. “How can -”

“Damn it, Cullen,” she snapped without greeting. “Were you ever going to tell me you were involved with the healer? I mean, I had my suspicions, from the way you were acting after the attack, but -”

Cullen sat back in his chair and frowned at her. “I’m not sure what that has to do with anything,” he grumbled.

“You don’t think I needed to know that I was stationing my guards to watch over your – your -” she glared at him for a moment. “Your lover? And how did that even happen, anyway? Do you even know how old she is? She looks like she’s barely older than a child. I’ve never thought highly of you, but Maker, Cullen, even for you -”

He cleared his throat and looked away. He realized suddenly he actually didn’t have any idea how old Evelyn was, and he’d never thought to ask. Young, that was all he could tell. “Listen, I -”

But Aveline gave him a glare and he closed his mouth again. “I thought you hated mages, I thought apostates were dangerous, not to be trusted or even considered _people_. And now, you’re asking me to guard the one that you’re sleeping with.”

Cullen chafed to have those words thrown back in his face. “I didn’t ask you to guard her because we’re -”

“Oh don’t even try that,” she interrupted. “You wouldn’t have asked me to station a guard at her clinic if you didn’t have some sort of attachment to her.”

For a moment, they just glared at each other.

“She’s someone who needs protection, of course I asked you to -”

“Oh, is that what this is? Did you convince her to – what, trade herself for your protection? Did you -”

“Did you just come in here to throw accusations in my face? If you have something to say, just say it,” Cullen gritted out, becoming more frustrated with each passing moment.

“You should have told me you had a relationship with her,” Aveline said. “I didn’t need to walk in blind to this investigation, to not know the reason you were there, or why you cared about the attempt on the healer so much.”

Cullen sighed. “It was my private business,” he said. “But I’m sorry if it’s caused you any issues.”

Aveline put her hands on her hips and glared at him for a moment more before she shook her head. “I never thought I’d see the day,” she muttered under her breath.

“Is that what this is? You just can’t believe that maybe I’m not the same person I was ten years ago? That maybe I’ve changed my mind on mages?”

“Not just that,” Aveline sighed. “But it gives another motive for the attack, possibly. I needed to know all the details.”

“Well now you do,” he told her.

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, a shrewd, curious look on her face. “Are you certain?”

“Yes, I am,” he resisted the urge to snap at her, and instead his voice came out in a muffled hiss as he spoke through his teeth. He was angry, having his private affairs thrown back in his face like this, to hear himself accused of taking advantage of Evelyn. After all, it was Evelyn who had started it.

Aveline pursed her lips but didn’t say anything.

“So besides accusing me of being a lecherous opportunist,” Cullen smirked, “was there something you needed to see me about?”

Aveline rolled her eyes. “Yes, actually,” she said. “Evelyn mentioned a man yelling outside the clinic -”

Cullen sighed. “Unfortunately, a dead end.”

“You’ve already looked into it?” Aveline raised her eyebrows.

“Yes, I have,” he began to rub his temples with one hand. “He was scaring away her patients, and I tried to find out who he was. He’s just a troubled man, someone who lost family in the chaos.”

“And you’re certain he didn’t hire the thugs?”

“Well, no,” Cullen dug his fingers into his eyes, trying to alleviate the pain behind them. “I haven’t been able to find him since the attack. But he seems to be a nobody, from what I can tell.”

“You were looking into him before the attack?”

“Yes,” Cullen dropped his hand and looked to see her staring at him with an eyebrow raised. She looked like she was fighting a smirk. “He was causing her problems, I wanted to try to help her out.”

“My, I suppose – I guess I didn’t realize it could be more than just sex for you,” Aveline quipped.

“What?” he snapped, sitting forward in his chair. “It’s -”

Aveline laughed. “I see I struck a nerve.”

Cullen scowled and looked away from her. “So did you find out anything else?”

“Well, we’ve ruled out Carta involvement, as well as the other usual gangs,” Aveline sighed. “In fact, it almost seemed disorganized. We haven’t been able to trace it back to anything, like it -”

“Like it wasn’t even a gang?” Cullen frowned.

“Exactly,” Aveline agreed. “But, we’ll keep looking into it. Until then, I suppose I’ll let you get back to your brooding.”

“I wasn’t brooding, I was -”

“Have a good night, Cullen,” she smirked. “Tell Evelyn I say hello.”

And she turned and left his office.

Cullen’s headache suddenly got worse, and his face seemed fixed in an increasingly blackening scowl. It didn’t help that before Aveline’s entrance, he’d been tied up in questions about why he was staying in Kirkwall.

And really, why was he trying to stay in Kirkwall? He suddenly remembered why he hadn’t told Evelyn he’d tracked down the man scaring her patients away. He wanted to keep her safe, but he also didn’t want her to leave. He hadn't wanted her to get the coin she needed to do so, even though he knew how selfish that was of him. He’d sat on the information, and now he was cursing himself, wishing that he hadn’t in case it was related to the attack.

But she wanted to leave Kirkwall, and suddenly…

Suddenly he had an opportunity to do so. He leaned his elbows on his desk, resting his forehead in his hands as he thought hard.

The Seeker’s offer was tempting. He’d begun to notice little things that irritated him about his continued work in Kirkwall.

The way his title made him grit his teeth.

The way his armor felt stifling, and almost too heavy, even though nothing about it had changed.

The way he hated the constant reminders of what had happened, scattered all throughout the city like scars.

Not to mention the statue that sat before the Gallows, glowing eerily red, having to be guarded constantly to avoid being touched. The guards had to be changed frequently, in order to keep them from falling under the same madness Meredith had.

He was starting to hate everything about the city. Then again, he’d never liked it here much anyway.

What was keeping him here?

The door opened a crack, slowly and quietly, and when he looked up he saw Evelyn poking her head into the room.

“Oh good, I was hoping you were alone,” she said softly, and she smiled at him as she closed the door behind her.

Her smile took his breath away.

He suddenly felt like he had his answer. Though he had no idea what to do with it.


	13. Chapter 13

She was wearing his shirt again.

The sight made something stir in the pit of his stomach, like a lion awakening, wanting to roar with satisfaction. Heat coursed through his veins and pooled between his legs, and he put his hands behind his head as he reclined on the pillows, watching as she moved about the room.

The sun wasn’t up yet, and they had several more hours that they could stay in bed. But something had woken her, and she had thrown on his shirt and climbed out of bed. She seemed not to have noticed that he was awake, and he covertly watched her as she tried to creep around in the darkness.

“Ouch!” she cried, and at the same moment he heard a thump on wood.

“You can light a candle,” he told her, propping himself up on his elbow.

She gave a small yelp and spun around. “I’m sorry, did I wake you?” she asked as she rubbed one foot over the other, trying to ease the pain in her stubbed toe.

“It’s all right,” he smiled. “Come here, let me see your toe.”

She hobbled over to the bed but she scowled. “I’m fine, really -”

He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into the bed, and she gave an exasperated giggle. “Let me see it anyway,” he told her.

She huffed playfully and folded her arms, letting him pull her into his lap and hold her small foot in his hand. Everything about her was so tiny compared to him, until he felt like he was a giant avvar compared to her. He frowned as he looked at her small foot in his hand, remembering something Aveline had said.

“Evelyn,” he said slowly. “How old are you?”

He looked at her and saw her frowning at him, thoroughly confused by his abrupt question. “I’m twenty,” she answered. “Why, how old are you?”

“I’m five and thirty,” he answered, and he saw her raise her eyebrows a bit and look over his face. He laughed softly, though, feeling relieved. “And it was just – something uh -”

“Was it something Aveline said?” she asked.

He nodded, and returned his attention to inspecting her toe, which was only bruised. They’d spoken about Aveline’s visits to both of them, but he hadn’t told her Aveline’s observations that it was more than just sex.

Because he was starting to suspect she was right, and he wasn’t sure what to make of it.

Evelyn had told him Aveline had questioned her about whether or not he had coerced her, or trapped her into their arrangement. And although Evelyn had been the one to proposition _him_ , he was beginning to realize he didn’t even think in terms of a deal anymore. Gone were the days that he even considered reporting her to the Circle for being an apostate. He could still tell that somehow, she just didn't belong in the Gallows.

He frowned, suddenly realizing he wasn’t sure it was the deal they’d made that kept him wanting to see her every night.

Instead, it was the way he felt around her. Earlier that night, he’d spent over an hour exploring her with his mouth and his hands before he’d made love to her, moving tenderly above her as she let out soft gasps. And now –

He looked at her wearing his shirt, at the way she fit into his lap and curled up so tiny it made him feel needed, and protective – even though he knew she could take care of herself. She looked up at him, and smiled, and he felt the same beast stir in the pit of his stomach as he looked at her.

 _Mine_ , he thought.

He pressed a fierce kiss to her forehead, and began to slide his hand up her thigh. She giggled and pressed a hand against his chest.

“Wait, I was thirsty, I was going to get some water -”

“Can’t it wait just a little bit?” he asked, sliding his hand further up under the bottom of his shirt.

“Let me – oh you are such a lecher,” she teased as he ran his tongue along her throat. “Just give me a minute, would you?”

He sighed and released her, and she crawled out of his lap. She waved her hand and a few candles suddenly lit, her magic surging through the air for a moment as she casually completed the action. Cullen swallowed and tried to ignore the surge of lyrium and magic that he briefly felt in response. Instead he watched the way her slim legs looked as she hurried across the room, the way his shirt hung down to the middle of her thighs.

There were things he enjoyed more than he felt he should about her, but they stirred something primal in him that made him want to protect and nurture her. She was so small, she was so young – and he was the first and only who’d enjoyed her. The possessive pride he felt when he thought about how no one else had ever done the things he’d done to her should have made him feel ashamed, but it only made him want to roar with utter satisfaction.

She was drinking water from a small cup, and when she was done she walked back to the bed, a small smile on her face and a twinkle in her eyes.

“Was waiting so horrible?” she teased.

He chuckled. “No, I suppose not,” he pulled her onto his lap and laid back down, staring up at her. They’d talked about Aveline, but they had yet to talk about what kept creeping into his mind, the idea he’d had when she’d joined him earlier. “Evelyn,” he began slowly.

“Hm?” she hummed, but she gripped the bottom of the shirt she wore and started to tug it over her head.

“Wait, no – leave that on,” he told her.

She stopped with it bunched over her chest, frowning at him. “Why?”

“I -” _because I want to fuck you wearing my shirt_ , he thought. But he didn’t say it. “I want to talk to you, and it’ll just distract me if you’re naked.”

She giggled and released the shirt, letting it fall back over her. “What do you want to talk to me about that’s so serious I need clothes?”

He sat up and moved to lean against the wall behind him, moving her with him, straddling his lap. She was still frowning, looking curious. “Are you – are you still trying to leave Kirkwall?”

An interesting look came over her face. “I – well, yes, I suppose so,” she said.

“You suppose so?” he asked, furrowing his brows.

“Well, I – I’ve been doing so much work at the clinic, it’s, um – it’s become hard to think of leaving it,” she said, shrugging.

But there was something too falsely nonchalant in her tone, and he considered her for a moment before he continued questioning her. “You would want to stay for the clinic?”

“It’s just – the reason I wanted to move on was because it wasn’t safe here, because the Templars would catch me, because people would hate me,” she sighed. “That’s why I move on from anywhere. My whole life – or at least, the last ten years of it, have been me moving around to try to stay safe.”

“The last ten years?” he asked, suddenly distracted from what they were discussing. “Have you been on your own since you were – since you were ten?”

She nodded, and fidgeted with the cuffs of the shirt she was wearing.

“What about your family? Why – why were you alone?”

She looked down, staring at where she was worrying the cuffs of one of the sleeves. “I – I just was,” she said, her voice quiet.

He let out a sigh, wanting to press the matter but recognizing it was difficult for her. Maybe he would try again another time, when he didn’t have a pressing matter to discuss with her. “Well, I – I have something I’ve been meaning to talk with you about. I’d – I’d like your opinion.”

She looked up at him, her eyes wide. She seemed surprised that he would discuss an important matter with her. “You want my opinion?”

“Yes,” he shrugged. He put his hands on her hips and gently rubbed circles into the fabric of his shirt with his thumbs. “I’ve been visited by a Seeker, and she – well, she offered me a new position.”

Evelyn’s eyebrows rose high on her forehead. “A new position? Away from the Templars?”

He nodded. “It would be a good opportunity to help try to fix everything going on,” he explained. “And – honestly,” he sighed. He hadn’t told anyone what he was about to admit, he had barely let himself think it let alone voice it aloud. “I’m not sure I can be a part of the Order anymore.”

He raised his gaze to hers and saw that she was regarding him closely. “You don’t want to be a Templar anymore?”

“I’m not certain I support what it’s turned into,” he confessed quietly. “I – Evelyn, what happened with Meredith, what happened here with the Circle – it was horrible. And I can’t believe it took me so long to see what was going on -”

His voice cracked, the shame swelling in his chest and his stomach twisting into knots. He looked away from her, but to his surprise she placed a hand on his cheek and turned him back to face her. Her brows were furrowed and she was staring intently at him. The intense color of her eyes was emphasizing her piercing gaze, and he felt like she was looking straight through him, into his very soul.

“I’m just not certain I can be a part of it, anymore,” he said, clearing his throat and trying to push away the feelings of regret and shame that were threatening to cloud his mind. “But this opportunity – it would take me away from Kirkwall.”

He watched as a look of surprise came across her face, and her brows knitted together as she tightened her lips. She almost looked upset, and she dropped her hand from his cheek. “Are – are you going to take it?” she asked softly, her voice almost trembling slightly.

“I’m considering it,” he said slowly, and he almost thought her eyes suddenly glistened as if with tears. “I – I was curious, though,” his heart was racing, and he tried to take a deep breath before he continued. “I was curious if you would want to accompany me.”

“You want me to go with you?” she sounded astonished. “I – I – why?”

“I – I enjo -” he hesitated and cleared his throat. “You want to leave Kirkwall, and you need protection, still, even once you leave Kirkwall. If you come with me, I could keep you safe.”

She was staring at him, a curious look on her face. “You would take me with you to protect me? Cullen, out in the world, if you’re not the Knight-Commander – I’m an apostate, I -” she seemed like she was at a loss for words, trying to find a way to explain.

“I know,” he hurried to assure her. “But I can still keep you safe, keep you hidden.”

“But an offer from a Seeker? Doesn’t that mean you’ll be with the Chantry?” she asked. “They won’t look kindly on you bringing an apostate everywhere with you, and unfortunately with my eyes…well, it’s rather hard for me to hide.”

Cullen squeezed her hips and thought for a moment. She made a fair point, they’d be surrounded by the Chantry. Still, though, she was an adept healer, and he felt certain that this Inquisition would need more healers and alchemists. “We could figure something out,” he said. “I just – I’m not sure I feel comfortable leaving you here without me. Please come with me.”

Evelyn stared at him, and reached her hands out to his shoulders. She was tugging her bottom lip between her teeth as she thought, and she began trailing her fingers over his chest. His muscles flinched slightly as her feathery touch tickled him, and the corners of her mouth tugged up when she noticed. “You really want me to?” she asked after a moment, and she raised her gaze to his again.

“Yes,” he answered softly. “I do. I think you should, and I’d – I’d like for you to. I want you to.”

“Is it just so you can keep having your way with me?” she teased, but he could tell there was a hint of truth in her question.

“That may be a part of it, I’ll be honest,” he told her, but he gave her a crooked grin and she giggled lightly. “I really would like to keep you safe, though, and I -” he sighed, finally deciding maybe she needed to hear him say it. “I enjoy your company. Not just at night, but…well, I like having you around. You’re the only person I’ve talked about this with, the only person whose advice I wanted. I just – I’d like for you to come with me. Please, tell me you will.”

The look in her eyes made his heart race, and she stared at him for a long moment before she finally nodded. “All right, Cullen,” she murmured. “I will.”

His heart felt like it was soaring, and he grinned. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, and she smiled against his mouth and wrapped her arms around his neck. He twisted and rolled over on the bed, moving her beneath him as he kissed her hungrily. She was breathless, she was almost giggling, and the happy sighs and moans that were escaping her lips were setting fire to his soul.

She reached again to take the shirt off, but he gripped one of her wrists and pinned it above her head. “Leave it on,” he said against her lips. “I want to fuck you wearing my shirt.”

He felt her legs tremble and he smirked at her, noticing how her eyes were half-lidded with desire, her lips parted as she panted softly. When he reached a finger down to slide within her, he felt that she was already wet and throbbing in anticipation.

“Maker Evelyn,” he moaned, as he thrust his finger in her to tease her. “I can feel how much you want me already.”

She moaned and nodded, nibbling his bottom lip as she did. “Yes, Cullen,” she whispered.

He grinned to himself and removed his finger, only to replace it with his hard cock so quickly that she gave a startled cry. He pressed his mouth against hers in a fierce kiss, relieved that she had given him more elfroot and poultices to help the pain in his lip so that he could kiss her like this.

She was coming with him.

He was going to leave the Order, he was going to leave Kirkwall.

But he wasn’t going to have to leave her.

He began thrusting into her, twisting his mouth against hers until he was certain she had to be struggling to breathe. He couldn’t get close enough to her, and he kept the wrist he held pinned above her head. Her other hand he felt sliding into his hair, holding his head to hers as she returned his kiss with equal ferocity and passion.

She was responding eagerly to his thrusts, matching his frantic pace with her own desperation. Cries of his name and half-finished prayers to the Maker echoed through the room, her sweet voice sounding like heavenly music to him. The headboard slammed against the wall, and he worried for a moment that it was going to break. But he didn’t pause at all, deciding that a broken bed would be worth _this_.

He could feel her beginning to throb around him, and he finally slid his mouth from her lips to her ear. “Evelyn,” he moaned, “you’re mine, you’re _mine_.”

She whimpered, she was sobbing yes, and he raised his head so he could look her over. The sight of her in his shirt, her back arching, her long hair splayed over the pillow as she convulsed under him – it was like seeing the face of the Maker. He felt her fall apart and she cried his name, so loudly he was certain everyone in the Gallows had to be awake by now. He couldn’t be bothered to care. Instead he groaned loudly, finding his own release as he watched her writhing under him, still enjoying the sight of her wearing his shirt far too much. His whole body jerked, and his vision went white, his hips stuttering in their pace as he poured himself into her with cries of her name falling from his lips like he was praying to her.

He finally slowed, his eyes clenched tight as he tried to regain his senses, as he tried to come down from the feeling of sheer perfection and bliss.

Nothing had ever felt like this, no one had ever made him feel so wanton and lusting. But Maker, being inside of her was like paradise.

When he thought about the fact that she had agreed to come with him, he felt like his heart was full to bursting. Somehow it felt right, somehow it felt absolutely perfect that she was going to be by his side.

She belonged there.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW attempted (implied sexual) assault and violence - it goes without saying - it's not Cullen, don't worry!

It was another day that the clinic was slower than normal, but Evelyn was so distracted she hardly noticed or cared that she didn’t have as many patients as she once had.

In between the few patients that she did help, she found herself straightening up her possessions, getting rid of clutter and things she no longer needed. She was absently organizing the things she needed, and she suddenly realized what she was doing.

She was preparing to pack.

She was going to leave Kirkwall.

She was going to accompany Cullen to Maker knows where, because she hadn’t actually asked him where he was headed. He had just said that he was leaving, and wanted her to go with him. She frowned as she thought about how easily she’d agreed, without knowing the destination or what his new position was. Or what exactly she would be doing if she went along with him. She hadn’t cared.

He’d said he wanted her to go with him. He’d said he enjoyed her company, that he really wanted her to go with him. He’d said that he wanted to keep her safe.

She hadn’t had anyone else for ten years. She hadn’t been able to rely on anyone, or trust at all for over half her life. It was a new feeling, long forgotten and buried under the walls she’d erected to keep herself safe. Somehow, though, she realized that she had let someone slip through the barriers she’d built and she actually felt like she could trust again.

At least, trust him to keep her safe. She no longer feared that he would let anything happen to her. Indeed, every time she saw the stitches above his lip she knew that he would, quite literally, fight for her. She hadn’t had anyone to do that for her since she was a child, and she was beginning to feel a strange comfort in having someone else to rely on. Someone she could seek for support, or help, someone who would be there for her.

She wasn’t even quite sure when that had started to happen. She would say it was the ambush, except that they had fought right after.

Maybe it was when he stationed the guard at her door, after he ran to her clinic without his armor to try to tell her she was in danger. Or the way he had insisted she start staying with him at night.

All she knew was that being in his arms made her feel safe, and secure. And the idea of leaving Kirkwall with him was oddly thrilling, because of the way it made her feel like she had someone who was there for her.

It was soothing, and made her feel a peace she hadn’t known in years.

When evening came, she closed up the clinic and began to head through the streets, intending to make her way to the Gallows like she had been. As she made her way into Lowtown, though, she was surprised to run into Cullen. He wasn’t in his armor, instead wearing his casual clothes, a well-made leather vest over his shirt. She noticed he didn’t have his sword, either, but he did have a curved dagger in a scabbard on his belt. He looked like he had the first night they met, when she had chosen him as a mark.

The sight sent her heart racing at the memory, and she furrowed her brows.

“Cullen, what are you doing here?” she asked when they stopped in front of each other.

“Well, I – I was thinking maybe we could have a drink and talk,” he told her, and there was something almost sheepish in the way he suggested it.

For a moment she wondered if he wanted to tell her he was changing his mind, that he didn’t want to take her with him. But he held his arm out to her and waited for her to take it, and when she did he smiled.

“What do you want to talk about?” she asked as they made their way through the streets together. It felt odd, walking so publicly, and she continually glanced around them. But no one was staring, no one was paying any mind to the couple that was walking by them, arm in arm.

“Well, I realized – I asked you to come with me, but I never actually asked your advice like I wanted to,” he said. “I just thought maybe we could take a chance and talk about – about what will happen, when we leave. And what we – what we might do.”

Evelyn raised her eyebrows at him, but she gave him a small smile. He was looking down at her eagerly, and when he saw her smile, he gave her a crooked grin. It almost looked comical with the stitches in his skin, but somehow she still felt her stomach fluttering, her heart racing at the sight.

That was beginning to happen more frequently, and she looked away from him, furrowing her brows and trying to figure out why.

They made it to the Hanged Man, and Cullen kept one hand on her lower back as he followed her through the crowd to the bar. When they reached the bartender, Evelyn found herself giggling and Cullen frowned at her while he ordered their drinks.

“What’s so funny?” he leaned down to whisper in her ear.

“We’re standing almost exactly where we met,” she told him.

He looked around them and then back at her, giving his regular lopsided smile. “You’re right, we are.”

They both shifted, almost awkwardly, giving embarrassed laughs full of remembrances and heavy with implication. Evelyn’s heart was still racing at the sight of him looking at her like that, out together in public like it was the most natural thing in the world.

She needed to distract herself from this feeling, this odd tension that was suddenly hanging in the air between them.

“So – you’re not worried about being seen out with a mage?” she teased, though she was trying to hide the fact that she wanted desperately to know his answer.

“Well, actually, that’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” he said, and he stared at his tankard for a moment as he thought. He shifted, turning so that he could face her with one arm resting on the bar, the look in his eyes intense. “With this new position, the thing is, well – I wanted to ask what you thought about -”

“Oh I didn’t expect to see _you_ out!” a voice called from Evelyn’s right. She turned to face the person who had walked up to them, and saw a pretty woman with chin length, light brown hair. She was holding a tankard and looking at Cullen with an interesting look in her eyes, a knowing glimmer in the hazel depths.

“B-Brennan,” Cullen stuttered, looking thoroughly astonished to see the woman who was suddenly standing so close to him.

Evelyn frowned sharply, watching as Brennan reached out a hand to rest familiarly on Cullen’s arm.

“I thought you were too busy rebuilding, otherwise I would have tried to get you to come out sooner,” she continued, her voice full of suggestion. “It’s good to see you.”

And Brennan reached up and kissed Cullen on the cheek. She pulled away slightly, frowning at him as he tried to lean away from her.

“What happened to your lip? I’m sorry did I hurt you? You’re bruised horribly -”

“It’s nothing, I -” Cullen looked past the woman to Evelyn, and his eyes widened. He tried to brush Brennan aside when he saw the glare Evelyn was giving him, and the other woman finally turned and noticed Evelyn standing there.

“I’m sorry, am I interrupting -” she began.

“No, no, you’re not interrupting anything,” Evelyn told her, her tone venomous. She continued to glare at Cullen as she set her tankard down. “I’ll leave you two alone, I was just going.”

She pushed her way through the crowd, her mind feeling blank in response to the emotions crashing through her.

How could she have been so stupid? She couldn’t believe she’d let herself think that she was his only lover, that maybe somehow they had something. But they’d only ever had a deal.

And he had to be taking her along when he left Kirkwall because she was no better than a whore.

She made her way through the crowd and out the door into Lowtown, and she took a moment to try to steady herself.

It was a moment too long.

“What ‘ave we got here?” a slurring voice called from behind her.

“Oy, a pretty little thing, ain’t ya?” another voice answered.

Evelyn’s heart began to beat faster, and she turned to see a group of drunken bandits approaching her from the shadows.

Shit.

She looked around and began to count them, noticing that there were more coming from the other side of the Hanged Man’s doors. She was going to be surrounded soon.

She summoned sparks to her fingers, focusing and trying to ready her lightning, ready to paralyze them all so that she could escape –

And then she felt Silence fall, her magic going out, her chest suddenly feeling as if something was crushing it.

She looked around, trying to find the source, and saw a man walking forward with a smirk on his face.

“Ah – I see it’s the little healer,” he said, his voice deep. “Even better.”

His face was haggard, his brown hair dirty. He looked like a beggar, but she knew that he was the one who had cast the Silence on her. She could feel it emanating from him, and her eyes widened.

She was defenseless, and the thugs were getting closer to her.

Desperation suddenly seized her, and she tried to make a run for it. An arm snatched out and grabbed her, and she was pulled back against a large chest. The smell of ale and body odor overpowered her nostrils, the feeling of hot sweat soaking through her clothes, and she had to stop herself from gagging.

“If it’s the healer -” one of the thugs began.

“Do what you want with her,” the Silencing man said. “The whole point was to scare her off, and what better way to do that than with a little fun? Have at it, boys. And thanks for the treat, it's nice to feel some _control_ again.”

With that, the man stepped back, a wicked smirk on his face as he stared at Evelyn. But he was staying nearby, as if to make sure she stayed Silenced and couldn’t get away.

Evelyn’s stomach clenched and her heart was hammering against her ribs. Her mind went blank with terror, realizing she had no way out of this situation.

The thug holding her began to drag her around the corner and she tripped over her feet, almost falling except for his hands holding her arms. The others followed, smirking and chuckling.

“Let’s draw sticks -” one began to suggest.

“No, I get to go first, I’m the one who -”

A few of them began to scuffle, arguing over who got to go first.

 _First_.

The word was echoing hollowly through Evelyn’s mind, her whole body trembling with absolute terror. One of the men was approaching her, his fingers working on undoing his belt and his breeches.

“Get her breeches off, and hold her for me,” he said, and he leered at her.

Evelyn’s lips trembled and she tried to speak, she tried to plead, but she was still Silenced and couldn’t manage a peep to defend herself.

Tears were streaming down her cheeks, and she tried to fight off the hands that were suddenly tugging at her clothes.

A large fist lashed out and struck her, _hard_ , and she saw stars at the impact, tasting blood, metallic and hot in her mouth.

She whimpered, dazed and limp, and she couldn’t continue trying to fight them off.

“Shit!” a voice called.

A sudden roar filled the air, followed by several grunts of pain.

The hands holding Evelyn loosened and she sank to the ground, no longer supported.

Her ears were ringing from the blow she’d taken to the head, her vision blurring slightly. But she realized enough to know that she was free from the thug’s grasp, and she crawled to the wall nearby and cowered against it.

More yells, more shouts, more grunts of pain and rage filled the air. She tried to pull her torn shirt across her chest, she huddled herself into a ball doing her best to hide herself, to get them to ignore her.

She didn’t know what was happening, her eyelids beginning to become heavy, her breathing ragged.

She felt sick, and she was barely aware of anything going on around her.

Until a set of hands gripped her shoulders and she gave a frightened cry. She pushed weakly against the chest of the one trying to raise her to her feet, but she finally heard a voice as if it was coming to her across an ocean.

“ – Evelyn, it’s all right, it’s all right,” the voice was saying. “It’s me, you’re safe – please – it’s me, it’s me.”

She blinked her eyes, but her vision was still blurry. A face swam before her eyes, and it took her a long moment to recognize Cullen’s desperately worried scowl. Someone was standing beside him, looking down at her.

“She’s injured -” a female voice said.

“I need to get her to safety -”

“Here, let me help -”

“No, I’ve got her,” and strong arms suddenly reached under and lifted her so that she was being held against a strong chest. “Tell Aveline, have her send -”

“I’m on it, don’t worry,” and there were footsteps as the other person departed.

“Hang on just a little bit, Evelyn,” Cullen whispered. “You’re safe now, it’s all right – I’m going to get you home. You’re safe now, I’m here.”

He kept repeating it and she rocked in his arms as he took rapid strides through the city.

Her eyelids were too heavy, though, and the last thing she remembered was Cullen’s voice saying, “We’re almost home.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for mentions/some description of the attempted assault and violence from the last chapter

The door banged open, slamming against the wall once Cullen kicked it before he turned sideways so he could carry Evelyn into the room.

He was still muttering under his breath, unable to stop himself from whispering assurances to her even though she had long since fallen unconscious.

He had hurried as fast as he could through Kirkwall, trying desperately to reach his quarters in the Gallows. As he’d rushed down the hall, Rylen had seen him, and he had barked orders for him to rouse one of the mages who could heal her.

He laid her gently on the bed, taking in the damage. Her delicate cheekbone was already bruising purplish black and green, marring her beautiful creamy skin. Her lip was split and bleeding down her chin, the trail of red standing out and nearly hurting his eyes with the evidence of her pain.

He swallowed hard and looked further down her body, feeling his heart race and his stomach tie into knots as he took in the sight.

Her shirt was torn, her breasts exposed, since she apparently hadn’t been wearing a breast band like normal. The laces of her breeches were snapped, and it was clear they had been pulled apart and down slightly.

Rage swelled in him, a white hot fury the likes of which he had never experienced before. He fought the urge to charge back to the scene, to finish slaughtering all of them, to bury the dagger he had in their guts and twist it to cause them more agony than he already had.

He wanted to slam his fist into their faces, especially the one that had held her, the one that had been pulling her clothes apart. He wanted to make the man who had been advancing on her while undoing his breeches _suffer_ , in ways he’d never thought of making anyone suffer before.

He stood and tried to calm himself, hurrying to the basin of clean water he kept in his room. He grabbed a cloth and wet it, and quickly returned to her side and began to gently clean her face and her bleeding lip. He pulled a blanket over her to cover her, his teeth clenching so hard he could hear them grinding against each other.

“Evelyn,” he murmured, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry – I’m so sorry.”

It felt like his fault. He should have run after her sooner, but Brennan had frowned at him, had asked if she’d done something wrong. The crowd had been too thick, he hadn’t been able to push through it fast enough when he finished explaining to Brennan.

He pressed his forehead to Evelyn’s, trying to fight the lump of emotion in his throat. He couldn’t get the image out of his head, the memory of Evelyn’s terrified face, her silent cries, the men all leering and talking about what they wanted to do first.

He felt like he had failed her, and shame and regret washed over him. He lifted his forehead and pressed tender kisses to hers, brushing her hair away and running the damp cloth over her skin. She stirred slightly, her brows furrowing as she let out a soft groan.

Footsteps sounded behind him and he looked up to see Rylen accompanied by one of the Senior Enchanters – and they were closely followed by Brennan and Aveline.

“Maker – Cullen, what happened?” Aveline stopped in her tracks as she took in the sight of Evelyn.

“I think we’ve got a better lead on who was targeting the clinic,” he mused bitterly.

The Senior Enchanter hurried forward and began to look over Evelyn’s injuries, and summoned their healing magic to their hands. The soft glow of green filled the dimly lit space, and Cullen stepped one pace away, trying to shake the tangible feeling of magic flowing through the air. But he didn’t dare back further away, keeping Evelyn close, observing closely as the Enchanter healed her lip and the bruising that marred her cheek began to disappear.

“She’ll have no lasting damage,” the Enchanter said. “I’ll leave some elfroot potions, they should help with the pain, and help clear her mind after a blow that hard.”

Cullen nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“Brennan told me you two were able to stop them before -” Aveline began, and he noticed the Guard-Captain’s usual stoicism seemed to be shaken.

“Yes, she’s – she’s otherwise unharmed,” Cullen said softly. “Probably just scared to death, but – she’ll be fine, otherwise.”

“Who was it?” Aveline asked.

Cullen gritted his teeth, remembering the look of the man as he’d smirked and run away. He looked so different, now, after all of the years on the streets. But Cullen had still recognized him immediately. “Samson.”

“Samson?” Aveline sounded shocked. “But why would he -”

“I don’t know,” Cullen growled. “But I intend to find out.”

“Well, I’m – I’m glad you were able to stop them,” Aveline finally sighed as she rubbed her temples. “I’ll alert my guards, I’ll have them look for Samson in Darktown. Now that we know who to look for, maybe we’ll actually be able to put a stop to this. In the meantime, I think it’s best if -”

“I know,” Cullen murmured, and he sat on the edge of the bed and took Evelyn’s delicate fingers in his. “She’ll stay here, I won’t let her out of my sight.”

He looked up to see Rylen and Brennan looking at him curiously while Aveline nodded solemnly.

“Let me know if anything changes,” Aveline said after a moment. “And I’ll do the same.”

“Thank you, Aveline,” he agreed.

The Guard-Captain turned to leave the room, and Brennan looked like she was going to follow her superior before she turned back.

“Listen, Cullen, I’m – I’m sorry, I didn’t know -” she began, but he shook his head.

“How could you have? We haven’t seen each other in a few months, with everything going on,” he shrugged. “It’s fine, really. And – thank you for your help. I couldn’t have rescued her as quickly without your aid.”

Brennan looked at where Evelyn was lying on the bed, and she frowned slightly. “Of course, I’m glad I was there. I’ll – I’ll see you around. Again,” she sighed, “I’m sorry.”

He nodded and watched as she left, and Rylen stepped forward. “Knight-Commander, Ser, I -” He hesitated, seeming at a loss for how to continue, like he wasn’t sure if he should.

“Speak freely,” Cullen encouraged him.

“I hope you know, I’ll do whatever I can to help,” his second said, and he looked earnestly at Evelyn, his gaze dropping to where Cullen was holding her hand. “I – I didn’t know that -” he blushed and cleared his throat before he continued. “I didn’t know it was the healer, but – I knew you had been – with someone. And I’ll – I’ll help in whatever way I can to catch whoever did this to her. I want you to know, I won’t – I won’t hold it against her, or you, that she’s an – an apostate.”

Cullen stared at the man for a moment, feeling surprised. Rylen had come recently from Starkhaven, and had been a great help in the reconstruction and trying to wade through the chaos overwhelming the city. Yet they hadn’t spoken much beyond duty, beyond their work. This sudden show of support, of character, was impressive and welcome.

“Thank you, Rylen,” Cullen said after a long moment’s consideration. “Please, continue to coordinate with Aveline. The man, Samson – he used to be a Templar. And it’s clear he must have gotten access to lyrium somehow, because he was able to keep Evelyn Silenced during the attack.”

“Perhaps if we can find the lyrium supply,” Rylen mused slowly, “we can find our way to the thugs and Samson.”

Cullen nodded. “Have you heard anything that might be useful?”

The Knight-Captain nodded thoughtfully. “I may have. I’ll get on it right away, Ser.”

And with that his second gave a brief salute and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Cullen returned his attention to Evelyn’s face, his eyes drinking in the sight of her. The bruises and cuts had been healed, but his mind could still picture them, could still see the way she’d looked battered and so fragile. His jaw clenched and he squeezed her fingers a little tighter, his other hand reaching out to brush hair off her face. She stirred again and he leaned forward.

“Evelyn?” he murmured softly. “Evelyn, dearest, can you hear me?”

Her eyelashes began to flutter, and she slowly opened her eyes to look around. She frowned, and for a moment looked confused.

Then suddenly her eyes flew wide and she tried to sit up, her breathing fast and heavy as she looked around wildly.

“No – no I -”

“Evelyn, you’re fine, you’re all right,” he hurried to assure her, and he took her into his arms. She struggled slightly, still looking around as she tried to figure out where she was. “Listen to me – you’re safe, you’re safe here with me. It’s just me.”

She finally stopped pushing against his chest and stared up at him, and after a moment tears began to stream down her cheeks. “Cu – Cullen?” she whispered. “What – what happened? I was – I was -”

He hushed her and pulled her close against his chest, feeling her hot tears soak the collar of his shirt. Stroking her hair, he held her tightly as she cried, and he whispered soft assurances, tender words to soothe her fears.

“You’re safe, they won’t hurt you again,” he murmured. “I’m so sorry Evelyn, I should have been with you. That never should have happened. I – I failed you.”

He almost felt his eyes prick with tears as he thought it, his jaw clenching as he felt shame wash over him.

He meant to protect her, and he hadn’t been able to. He’d almost failed her entirely. If he hadn’t left the Hanged Man when he had –

Clutching her more tightly to him, he pressed a kiss to her forehead as he tried to push that thought aside. She was safe, now. Not entirely unharmed – but safe.

“Thank you,” she whispered finally, her voice trembling through her tears.

“I should have gotten there sooner, I shouldn’t have let you leave without me,” he sighed, still running his fingers through her hair as he cradled her in his arms.

“It’s – it’s -”

“Don’t say it’s all right, Evelyn,” he interrupted. “It isn’t. I told you I’d keep you safe. I almost let the worst happen to you. I’m – words can’t express how sorry I am.”

“Please, stop beating yourself up about it,” she shook her head against him, one hand clutching the back of his neck as she clung to him. “I shouldn’t have stormed off so stupidly.”

Cullen swallowed hard, remembering what had led to her departure in the first place. “Evelyn, I – I wanted to explain, if you’d let me,” he began. “Brennan and I – it was a while ago. It wasn’t anything, really. Just – just a few times. We were stressed, Kirkwall was falling apart, we were both working so hard to try to keep it together. It just sort of happened.”

He paused and she snuggled her face against him. He found it encouraging that she wasn’t pulling away, that she wasn’t angry. Instead she was clinging to him a bit more tightly, silently waiting for him to continue.

“She apologized, she wants to apologize to you too,” he continued after a moment. “She didn’t realize I was with someone, she -”

“With someone?” she interrupted softly, and she raised her gaze to his finally. She was frowning slightly, looking over his face carefully as if reading it for some hidden answer.

“Well, I mean – um, she didn’t realize that – that I was -” he sighed. He didn’t quite know how to describe what he meant. An awkward silence fell as she continued to stare up at him, waiting patiently, silently for his answer. And finally, his answer came upon him and he said it before he could resist. “Yes, Evelyn. We’re together. We’re – we’re leaving Kirkwall together, and I – there hasn’t been anyone else since you, since that first night. And I don’t want there to be. I told her that, too. That’s why – that’s why it took me so long -”

His voice cracked and he struggled to continue, the image of what he had walked outside to see temporarily blinding him.

“Cullen, I -”

“Evelyn, you’re mine,” he murmured, and he pressed his lips to her forehead. “I promise – there isn’t – there won’t be anyone else. Only you. Only you.”

She tightened her arms around his neck and tried to pull herself closer. They were clinging to one another, her face buried in the crook of his neck, his hand holding the back of her head as he pressed his cheek against her hair.

“Promise me?” she asked softly.

“I promise, Evelyn,” he pulled away so he could look into her eyes. “And I won’t let anything happen to you, ever again. I’ll keep you safe, even if -” but his voice cracked.

 _Even if I die trying, even if it kills me_ , he wanted to say.

He’d never felt that, but looking into her sparkling, unusual eyes, he knew.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips, moving tenderly and intentionally against her mouth as he tried to assure her he meant it.

Now more than ever, he knew that he needed to leave Kirkwall, and he needed to take her with him.

A fresh start, for both of them, away from all of this.

Together.


	16. Chapter 16

“Maker’s breath,” she felt the soft, irritated whisper against her hair.

Cullen eased himself out from behind her, carefully sliding his arm out from under the pillow beneath her head. She finally heard it. Someone was knocking on the door, and rustling broke the stillness of the room as Cullen pulled his clothes on before he hurried to open the portal.

“Please, keep it down -” he snapped as he opened the door. “Seeker, how may I help you?”

The tone of his voice had changed, the irritation nearly gone.

“I understand you were involved in another altercation, and this time with a former member of the Order?” came a woman’s low voice. She had a heavy accent, and Evelyn couldn’t quite place it. She wanted to roll over and chance a peek to see the Seeker, to see what she and Cullen were doing. But she lay still, realizing that at the moment everything but her hair was covered by the sheets where she lay in his bed.

“Yes, it was – a surprise,” Cullen answered. “Seeker, might we speak about this later? I actually wanted to speak with you about your offer, but at present -”

“Are you busy?” the tone of the woman’s voice almost seemed to be dripping with implication.

“I – yes, I am,” Cullen sighed. “But if you’d like, we can meet in my second’s office, down the hall -”

“Or we could meet in yours, since I am already here, Knight-Commander,” the woman replied smoothly.

Cullen heaved a sigh. “Listen, I’m -”

But there was a creak and the door was pushed open.

Evelyn curled up tighter into a ball, nestling into the sheets. She knew that her hair was visible, but she tried to keep herself still as if asleep. For a moment, she almost hoped that the Seeker confused her for a whore, or a tavern girl.

“I see,” came the woman’s voice.

“Seeker Pentaghast, I – listen, right now isn’t a good time,” Cullen told her, and he sounded annoyed.

“So it would seem, Knight-Commander,” the woman quipped. “If spending time in bed is more serious than what I have to speak with you about, perhaps you aren’t the right man for the job after all.”

“It’s not like that,” Cullen gritted out. “She’s recovering from the attack. This – this is the healer.”

There was silence.

“The apostate?” the Seeker finally asked, her tone clipped and curious.

“Yes.”

“And she’s – in your bed?”

The answer was slightly delayed, and then, “Yes.” A moment passed and then Cullen cleared his throat. “I brought her back here after the attack, since it seems she’s caught the attention of someone who used to be a part of the Order. She was in need of healing, and since I normally would have sought her help -”

“Yes, I’ve been meaning to ask why you weren’t acting on the reports of a new healer in Darktown –especially considering what the last one did,” the woman mused.

Evelyn closed her eyes, still doing her best not to do anything but breathe like she was asleep under the sheets. She wanted to say something, she wanted to come to her own defense. But she wasn’t sure if even Cullen knew she was awake, and so she decided to try to keep herself still.

“She has been doing good work, the city needs her,” Cullen answered steadily. “Considering what happened she was a necessary compromise -”

“And the fact that she is now in your bed, after you were reported to have been having a drink with her in the Hanged Man last night prior to the attack -”

“We were both there, that’s all.”

Evelyn tried to keep her heart from racing, hoping that the Seeker couldn’t hear it as it hammered against her ribs. The silence stretched, and she had to fight the urge to look out from under the sheets.

“Knight-Commander, I’ve almost run out of patience waiting for an answer -”

“I accept your offer,” Cullen interjected. “But I have a few conditions.”

“I will consider them."

“I will accept the position of Commander, but – not as a Templar,” Cullen answered, and Evelyn could hear a strange catch in his voice. “I intend to resign from the Order.”

“You – you intend to resign from the Order – _completely?”_ there was something in the way she emphasized the word.

“I do,” Cullen replied.

“I – I see,” the Seeker said. “Well, I suppose I can understand why, all things considered. You have my support, if this is what you wish to do.”

“Thank you, Seeker.”

“And your other conditions?”

“Knight-Captain Rylen, if he is interested, should accompany us, I believe,” Cullen mused.

“Have you spoken with him about it?”

“No, but I believe he will accept,” Cullen assured her.

“Very well,” the Seeker agreed. “You said you had a _few_ -”

“The healer will also be accompanying us,” he said, and Evelyn felt her heart race even faster. The tone of his voice tugged at her heartstrings, the way he said it so firmly, unflinchingly - like he wasn’t going to compromise on this point at all.

“The healer? Knight-Commander – Cullen, you can’t be serious,” the woman deadpanned.

“I am,” Cullen answered, his voice still unwavering. “She is my responsibility. She is an adept healer and alchemist, and will be beneficial to your cause. Put her to work for you. But she will be accompanying me and will remain at my side, wherever I go - or I will refuse the position.”

An almost deafening silence greeted his words, and Evelyn was again tempted to raise her head finally to take in the Seeker’s reaction. She bit her bottom lip and waited, actually finding herself hoping for his conditions to be accepted.

She wanted out of Kirkwall, now more than ever. But she wanted out of Kirkwall with _him_.

She found herself wondering if they would still leave together even if he didn’t accept this position. Maybe they could go to Starkhaven, or Antiva. She’d never been to either, but if he wanted to go, she would.

“You say that you are responsible for her?” the Seeker finally asked slowly.

“Yes, I am,” Cullen answered. “I have promised to keep her safe, and I cannot leave her in Kirkwall while someone is clearly trying to do her harm. If I am to leave Kirkwall, she must come with me.”

“I suppose,” came the woman’s low voice, “a healer would not be unwelcome. Very well, Cullen. You have a deal, but I have a condition of my own – you will keep watch on her. She is still an apostate, and I will not invite a maleficar into -”

“Trust me, she is no blood mage,” Cullen interrupted. “You have my word. She will not cause any problems.”

“I accept your conditions, Commander.”

“Thank you, Seeker Pentaghast,” Cullen said. “Now, if you don’t mind – might we speak about the details later?”

“Of course,” the woman answered, and Evelyn heard footsteps as Cullen walked her to the door. “I’ll be back after midday, if that works for you?”

Cullen assented and the door finally clicked shut. Evelyn waited a moment and then threw the sheets off of her head, rolling over and looking at Cullen. He was standing with his forehead pressed to the door, but he heard the bed creak and turned to look at her.

“Evelyn, I’m sorry did -”

“She accepted?” she interrupted. “Do you think she really meant it?”

He chuckled. “She did, yes. It looks like we’ll hopefully be leaving Kirwall soon. Although, in my opinion, not nearly soon enough.”

“Mmm, I feel the same,” she hummed as she watched him approach the bed again and strip his shirt off. “What – what is this position you’re accepting? You haven’t even told me yet what you’re doing, where we’re going, or what I’ll be doing.”

“And yet you still accepted,” he said, and he gave her a small smile, an odd twinkling in his eyes. It made her heart skip a beat, her breath catch in her throat.

He was right. She hadn’t cared, she had just known.

She didn’t want to be away from him.

“She’s asked me to lead the forces of the Inquisition, should it come to fruition,” he started to explain. “We’ll be headed to the Temple of Sacred Ashes, in Haven, located in the Frostbacks.”

Evelyn’s eyebrows rose as high as they could. “The Temple of Sacred Ashes? I’ve – I’ve heard the stories, I never thought I would actually go there.”

He smiled at her. “It will be an adventure.”

She giggled and scooted closer to him, snuggling against his chest as he pulled her to him. “I’m actually looking forward to traveling for once, and going somewhere new.”

He hummed indistinctly against the top of her head, and she could feel him pressing his lips to her hair and breathing her scent in.

“Are you looking forward to going back to Ferelden?” she asked after a moment, feeling herself lulled into a peaceful comfort with his strong arms wrapped around her.

“I suppose,” he said. “I haven’t been there in ten years, it – it will be strange to go back, I think.”

He seemed guarded, distant when she looked up into his face. She frowned a little and stretched a hand up to cup his cheek. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” he sighed. “I – I have something I want to tell you.”

“What is it?” she prompted him.

“Did you hear what I told the Seeker? Were you awake?” he was holding her gaze, and he almost looked apprehensive.

“Yes, I was awake for all of it.”

“I’m – Evelyn, I’m not just resigning from the Templar Order,” he began to explain, and the tone of his voice was soft. “I’m going to give up being a Templar. I – I’m going to stop taking lyrium.”

Her eyes widened and for a moment she just stared at him. “Isn’t that dangerous? I thought -”

“It – it can be,” he sighed. “But Evelyn, I want to do this. I need to do this.”

He was still holding her gaze, watching intently for her reaction.

“Cullen, I – I think that’s wonderful, if not a little frightening,” she admitted. “But I’ll support you, wholeheartedly.”

As she said it she saw the smile stretch across his face at her support, though inside she felt her stomach twisting uncomfortably in knots.

He was her protector. If she went with him he was all she had. He was her only link or support in an unfamiliar place. He was the only thing that could save her from persecution by the Chantry. And now he was telling her that he was giving up something that made him powerful.

Truthfully, she did admire his decision a great deal.

But she was also worried for him. At the very least, she resolved herself to begin to do research, to make sure her herbs were well stocked. She knew that he would need her.

She peered up into his face, and saw him watching her closely.

“How are you feeling?” he asked after a long moment.

“Still tired,” she sighed, but she noticed his hands caressing her back and she felt shivers course through her at his light touch.

“And you’re – you had a few nightmares, are you doing all right?”

“I’m -” she wanted to say fine but the word wouldn’t come out. “I’ll manage,” she said after a moment.

“Evelyn, may I – may I kiss you?” his voice was soft, tentative.

She furrowed her brows, confused by the change in his treatment of her. It took her a moment before she realized what it was. “Cullen, you don’t have to ask permission or worry about frightening me. I know that you would never hurt me.”

He gave her his usual crooked grin and leaned down to claim her lips in a tender kiss.

She wanted him to help her erase the memories, which were threatening to come to the surface. She slid her hand along his cheek, trying to hold him closer to her as their mouths moved leisurely against one another.

He was being so gentle, moving so delicately and keeping his usual passion tempered. She could tell that he was still trying not to frighten or hurt her, and she appreciated the tenderness he was showing her. It was setting her heart racing, and her fingers were trembling as she ran them along his cheek into his hair. His kiss was caring, it felt full of emotion, like something new was there under the surface.

As she returned his soft passion, the word suddenly came into her mind.

_Love._

His hands slid down her sides and he slowly eased her onto her back, still kissing every bit of her face and neck as he could reach. He undid his breeches and tugged them off before he covered her with his body, caressing her gently. His eyes wandered over her face, and he seemed like he was reassuring himself that she was all right.

And she was, but tears still came to her eyes. He seemed to misunderstand her sudden emotions and he removed his hands from her and began to press soft kisses to her forehead.

“It’s all right, Evelyn, we don’t have to -”

“No, Cullen, please – I want you,” she whispered. She was trying to bite her tongue, trying to hold back the sudden realization she’d had. “Please, Cullen, make love to me, I want you to.”

He gave her a crooked grin and his brows furrowed ever so slightly, as if he noticed the way she said it and was puzzled by the wording of her request.

Every movement of his hands and body against her sent shivers down her spine until her legs were shaking on either side of him. He slid himself into her slowly and she bit her lip, feeling like she was on the verge of tears in response to their union.

_Love._

The word wouldn’t stop repeating itself in her mind, chasing away all other thoughts and memories as she watched him moving above her. His every action was tender, his eyes full of desire and something else.

_Love._

She wondered if he knew. She wondered if he had had the same revelation she was having as she laid beneath him and watched him making love to her.

His face was full of an intensity she hadn’t seen before, and his mouth moved over her skin hungrily as if he wanted to devour her. He was holding himself deep within her, barely withdrawing at all before he thrust back into her, so that they were never separated from one another.

She moaned his name and clung to him, responding to all of his attention eagerly, desperately. She couldn’t tell him her thoughts, she couldn’t confess what she was realizing, not until she knew what she wanted. But she could still say it with her body, and she trailed her fingers over his skin, running them into his hair as she kissed him and rolled her hips against him.

They built to the peak together and fell over the edge at the same time, crying each other’s names as they both shuddered, clinging to one another as the intensity washed over them.

He nuzzled his face in the crook of her neck, and she felt him pressing his lips softly to whatever bit of her skin he could reach.

“Evelyn, I -” he began but he suddenly stopped.

She waited, and when he didn’t continue she tentatively prompted, “Yes, Cullen?”

He was silent a moment longer, and she almost wondered if he had fallen asleep on top of her. “I’m glad you’re coming with me,” he murmured at last.

She wasn’t sure that was what he was originally going to say, but she didn’t press the matter.

She still didn’t quite know what to do with her revelation either.

 


	17. Chapter 17

“Are you certain this is what you wish to do?”

“I am.”

The Seeker stared at him for a long moment, her hands folded in her lap, the leg she had crossed over the other bouncing with impatient energy as she considered him. “May I ask – why?”

Cullen sighed and stared at the flickering candle on his desk for a moment as he thought how to explain it. “I – no longer support what the Order has become,” he said slowly. “I’ve given my life to this, but now -”

He broke off as he pictured Evelyn, as he pictured the way his first instinct to her magic was to Silence her, when she was trying to help him. He thought of how his duty was to take her in, to punish her for the help she was providing at the clinic. He pictured the look on her face, the sincerity in her smile when she told him she would support him.

She was a mage, an apostate, but she still felt like the first person who had ever truly cared about his well being. At least, the first since he was home, the first since his family long ago when he was a child.

After Kinloch, after the way his fears had been preyed upon by his superior to poison him against his charges instead of doing his duty – he couldn’t remain a Templar. He had felt it bubbling under the surface, the desire to walk away and reevaluate what he wanted for quite some time now. And then, two things had happened that he felt were signs, were gentle encouragements from the Maker for him to consider a new path.

He had met Evelyn, and a Seeker had sought him out and offered him a new position.

He may have been blind to things going on before, but he was well aware now of the signs. It was time for him to leave, time for him to consider other ways to fulfill his life’s purpose and direction. The Inquisition, if it came to fruition, was a better opportunity to protect than the Templars were.

Especially since in the Inquisition he could protect Evelyn, instead of just ignoring his duty as a way to guard her.

“Commander?”

He looked up to see the Seeker staring at him with one eyebrow raised, curiosity at his sudden thoughtful silence evident on her face. “My apologies, Seeker, I got lost in thought,” he admitted. “I just think it is time for me to leave the Order. It’s time for me to seek another path.”

She nodded, pursing her lips as she thought for a moment. “And the lyrium, you are determined?”

“Yes, I am,” he asserted. “And I – I have a request, if I may.”

“Another?” she teased dryly, a smirk tugging up one side of her mouth.

“I – yes, but this one I believe you will easily agree to,” he sighed. “I’d like for you to watch me. You know the signs, you will know if I become – compromised. If I can no longer lead, if I can no longer perform my duties -”

“Of course, Commander,” she readily agreed. “I will not hesitate to let you know.”

“Thank you.”

They were silent for a moment, and Cullen fell into musings over his morning with Evelyn, of the tender look in her eyes and the way she had looked beneath him as he moved within her.

“I have one more question, Commander,” the Seeker interrupted his thoughts. “The healer – how is it you came to be her protector? It seems an odd arrangement.”

He stared at her for a long moment, considering. Part of him felt that he needed to disclose his relationship with Evelyn. Then again, he worried that the Seeker would change her mind about taking Evelyn with them if he did. His private affairs weren’t of any concern to the Inquisition though, and since Evelyn was a skilled healer and alchemist he didn’t feel like he was solely bringing her along because of their relationship.

“I – saved her from an unfortunate incident,” he said. “And then it just sort of – became habit, I suppose you could say.”

It was a small lie, but he determined there was no harm in it. He saw no reason to let the Seeker in on the details of his intimate affairs.

Especially since he wasn’t even entirely certain how he could explain it. He didn’t even fully know what it was, all he knew was that he couldn’t leave her behind, that he didn’t want to be away from her. That her smile and laugh made his heart race and made him feel like he could be a better man.

The beginning of their relationship may have been unusual, and he thought back to the way he had so easily given in to her offer, to make the deal with her. He didn’t think he realized, then, but he felt fairly certain now that what he felt then was the same as what he was currently feeling. He just hadn't recognized it as more than lust, and selfish need.

And that confused him to no end.

The Seeker didn’t look like she believed him, but she didn’t press the matter further. “We’ll be leaving at the end of the week, on the next boat to Ferelden.”

“Excellent,” he nodded eagerly. He was becoming more and more anxious to leave, to get Evelyn out of the city. In the meantime, he still had a few days to track down Samson.

He planned on making the man pay for what he had tried to do to Evelyn.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to your duties,” she said, and stood. “I will see you tomorrow to make arrangements. Let me know if you speak with Knight-Captain Rylen, as well.”

“I will, thank you Seeker,” he stood as well and walked her to the door.

“You may call me Cassandra, Commander.”

He smiled. “And you may call me Cullen, Cassandra.”

She nodded curtly and left his office.

The rest of the day was spent beginning to make preparations, speaking with Rylen and checking with Aveline for more leads on the attack. Evelyn had gone to her clinic when they knew Cassandra would be coming back, but she only grabbed her belongings and locked the doors so that the people knew the clinic was closed. He insisted that she use the secret door in and out as a precaution, so that no one saw her entering the clinic. Samson’s involvement had made the attacks on her more worrisome, and even though she had insisted she could handle making her way alone he still waited anxiously for her to return.

When she did he gave her a brief kiss before he left for the keep, and as he walked through Hightown he mused over how natural it had felt.

It was casually intimate, and gave him a sense of possession and belonging.

Evening fell and he returned to his office to find Evelyn curled up in his bed, reading. She had straightened up and organized, and he noticed too that her healing supplies were neatly arranged beside his desk.

“You didn’t have to clean,” he sighed, rubbing his temples in exasperated frustration. His head had been pounding all day, his hands shaking. His vision felt a bit like it was blurring, and now Evelyn had spent the day cleaning like she was his maid.

“It was just a bit cluttered, I was making space so we weren’t both tripping in here -” she began to explain.

“Did I ask you to do that?” he snapped.

He glared at her, but she merely frowned at him. She opened her mouth to speak, and suddenly the room lurched and his vision blackened.

“Cullen?” a soft voice was calling to him, fingers were brushing his forehead and tapping his cheek lightly. “Cullen, love, wake up. Cullen? Are you all right?”

His eyes opened and the dim light of the room immediately hurt, causing him to clench them shut again. He could feel the stone beneath his head, cool and hard on his aching skull.

“Cullen?” she asked again.

“What -” he slurred.

“You fainted, are you – are you all right? Can you open your eyes?”

“I – the light hurts my eyes,” he groaned softly, raising a heavy hand to his forehead to try to shield himself so that he could try looking up at her again. “Was I – did I pass out for long?”

“No, only a minute or two,” she told him.

He felt something wet and cool being wiped over his skin, and he felt some of the ache in his head lessening. “Did I hit my head?”

“No, I managed to catch you,” she said, but she sounded like her voice shook slightly as she said it.

“How – you were on the bed, you -”

“What matters is that I did, it doesn't matter how,” she interrupted. “Cullen – have you been feeling ill all day?”

“Yes, but it’s worse – it got worse this afternoon, when I was speaking with Aveline.”

“I – um, Cullen, did you – did you take your lyrium today?” her voice was a hesitant whisper, as if she was afraid to upset him.

“N-no, I told you, I was -”

“Cullen!” she groaned softly and he felt her stand up. “Where is it? Please tell me you didn’t do anything stupid and noble like throw it out -”

He chanced a peek to see her shuffling through things on his desk before she moved to his bedside table. He flushed slightly when she began setting out items from the drawer, including the oil that he kept around from when his hand was the only relief he could find. Or when a lover needed the aid, and he suddenly mused over the fact that he’d never had to use it with her.

She finally found the box of lyrium tools as well as his vials, and he heard her sigh with relief.

“Evelyn, I told you, I’m not taking it anymore -” he gritted out.

“You have to -”

“No, I -”

“Would you just listen to me?” she interrupted, and he snapped his mouth shut when he heard the tone of her voice. It was much firmer than normal, and he was stunned into silence as he glared up at her. “You have to take some still, you can’t just quit all at once. We’ll start tapering you off, we have to wean you gradually. Maker, I can’t believe you…”

And she continued to grumble to herself as she knelt beside him, readying the tools and the vial. “Since you tried to go without today, I think you need a full dose to counteract the withdrawal,” she told him, her voice still edgy with irritation. “But tomorrow, I think you can take a little less.”

She reached for his arm and pulled his glove and gauntlet off, pushing back the sleeve of his shirt to reveal his skin. He saw the marks from his previous doses and felt shame course through him, but she simply wiped his skin with the cool cloth and bent over him with the needle. She glanced up at him briefly before sliding the needle into his vein, and as soon as she began to administer the lyrium he felt immensely improved.

Evelyn removed the needle and sat back on her heels, looking him over and trying to assess how he was doing. “Better?” she asked after a few moments.

“I – yes, I am,” he confessed, but he was immediately ashamed. He covered his eyes with his hand, unwilling to look at her after what she had just had to do for him. “How – how did you know about that?”

“I – I just do,” she answered, and he could hear her returning the items to the box.

He lowered his hand again and watched her, his brows furrowed as he noticed the anxious way she was avoiding his gaze. “Evelyn, how did you know I can’t quit lyrium right away? Did you do research?”

“Um – yes, I did,” she answered too quickly, but he could immediately tell it was a lie.

“Oh really? And does that mean you left the office and wandered the Gallows? How did you find your way to the library?”

She sighed. “Does it matter how I know? What matters is that I just saved, at the very least, your sanity, and at most - your life.”

“Evelyn, tell me,” he demanded, and she turned a scowl on him.

“I – oh you are just -” and she grumbled to herself again as she returned his box to his bedside table. “I – I’ve been around a Templar who went through withdrawal before, all right?”

He frowned. “Another lover?”

“You know that’s not it,” she said, and she sounded indignant.

“Sorry, I just – why won’t you tell me?” he finally pushed himself into a sitting position, no longer comfortable in his armor on the floor.

“It wasn’t a pleasant experience,” she sighed softly. “But if you must know, it was the Templar who was trying to take me to the Circle.”

He raised his eyebrows and halted in pushing himself off the ground, shocked at her admission. “I didn’t know you -”

“Obviously I never made it there,” she interrupted. “Because – well, we hit bad weather, and I – I tried to run off, because I was scared. So it took longer, after he caught me again. And, well,” she heaved a sigh, “he hadn’t brought enough lyrium with him, and his mind started to…”

She trailed off, and a pained expression came upon her face. He finished standing, but instead of removing his armor he walked over and took her shoulders in his hands, turning her to face him. “Did – did he hurt you?”

“It’s not important,” she murmured. “What is important is that – I know that you can’t quit like this. We’ll – we’ll ease you off of it, we’ll do this right so that the same thing doesn’t happen to you.” She looked up at him, and he saw that her eyes were glistening with tears. “Cullen, I can’t – I can’t lose you. Please, let me help you. I support you trying to do this, and I want to make sure you succeed.”

He smiled, hearing the way that her voice caught on the words, the tug of emotion in her throat. Maker, what had he done to deserve her? Especially after the way he had treated her at first, the way he had used her.

“All right, dearest,” he told her, and he saw a soft look come into her eyes at the words. He leaned forward and gave her a tender kiss. “Thank you.”

  

* * *

 

Evelyn was bored stiff.

She’d already cleaned again, straightening the room from the way they had casually destroyed it with their lovemaking. Now, though, she was lying on the bed, the book of poems dangling loosely from her hand as she daydreamed about the way they had spent the night.

Her careful, tender care seemed to have stoked something in him until he had spent so long taking her that she became breathless and limp under his attention. He had reverted to the commanding tone he had first used with her, giving her orders and watching her avidly as she followed them. Every single one of them, though, was meant for her benefit, and she eventually lost count of how many times he had made her fall apart as he fucked her.

She groaned and buried her face in the pillow, but was greeted with the smell of him, the smell of sweat and sex filling her nostrils. Mild desperation caused her to rub her thighs together and she bit her lip, trying to ignore the urge she had to touch herself as she thought about him. Instead, she decided to save her ideas for when he came back.

With a sigh she sat up, trying to think of what she could do. Her mind was wandering too much for poetry, and her healing herbs and utensils were already as organized as they could be. Cullen had told her they were leaving at the end of the week on the next ship to Ferelden, but she was ready to leave at a moments’ notice considering how few possessions she had. She found herself wishing they were leaving sooner, since being stuck on a ship had to be better than staying in his quarters alone all day.

Evelyn stretched and considered checking her healing supply to see if there was anything she needed to buy before they departed. A knock sounded on the door, though, and she paused, her heart suddenly hammering. She wasn’t certain what to do, and for several long moments she simply stared at the portal.

“Commander Cullen?” a voice called through the door.

It was the Seeker, Evelyn recognized her by the accent. She bit her lip, considering. She could open the door and tell the other woman where to find Cullen, but that would mean revealing that she was in his quarters, wearing his shirt as she lounged in his bed.

The Seeker knocked more insistently at the door, and Evelyn sighed and hopped off the bed to pull her breeches on.

“Cullen? Or…” the woman paused. “Healer? Are you in there?”

Evelyn pressed her lips together and arched her neck, praying silently for guidance before she approached the door. Her heart was racing and she felt herself trembling, unsure of how to handle the Seeker once she opened the door. With one last deep breath to steady herself, she unbolted the door and opened it.

“Ah, I -” the Seeker took a moment to look Evelyn up and down, her eyes lingering briefly on the large shirt she wore. “I take it you are the healer?”

“Yes, I’m – my name is Evelyn,” she told her. “Evelyn Trevelyan.”

“Trevelyan? Are you – are you from Ostwick?”

Evelyn sighed and nodded her head, but didn’t elaborate though she saw the glimmer of recognition in the Seeker's eyes. “How may I help you, Seeker? I’m afraid the Commander is at the keep speaking with the city guard, he's still following up on the attack that occurred the other night.”

“Oh, I suppose I can speak with him later,” the other woman frowned. “In the meantime, may I speak with you? I’d like to ask you a few questions, considering I am apparently offering you a job.”

Evelyn worried her bottom lip for a moment before she nodded and stepped back to let the Seeker into the room.

“How long have you been in Kirkwall?” the Seeker asked, turning to look at Evelyn.

“A few months,” she said as she closed the door. “I arrived just after the chaos with the rebellion.”

“You did?”

“Yes, it was horrible luck on my part,” Evelyn sighed and folded her arms. “I was just trying to pass through and book passage on a ship, but unfortunately there weren’t any for about a month, and by then – well by then I was out of coin.”

“I see,” the Seeker pursed her lips as she considered Evelyn. “How did you meet the Commander?”

“By chance,” Evelyn answered smoothly, but she didn’t elaborate.

“Evelyn, I -”

“Is there something specific you need from me?” Evelyn interrupted. “I can demonstrate my healing abilities if you need me to, to prove that I am worth bringing with you. Otherwise – I’m terribly busy preparing and would like to be able to get back to it.”

The Seeker scowled at her, and silently considered her for a moment. “I understand you have been the target of several attacks since you arrived. Do you have any idea of the reason why?”

Evelyn shrugged and sighed. “I wish I did,” she told the other woman. “I’ve done my best to avoid trouble. All I’ve done is heal people and keep to myself.”

“And yet several times now you have been subjected to attacks by thugs, and have been rescued by the Knight-Commander himself.”

“So it would seem.”

Again the Seeker almost glared at her. “You can’t think of any reason for it? Anything at all that may have made you a target?”

“I’ve been a target my whole life,” Evelyn returned smoothly. “Beyond merely _existing_ , no – I can’t think of anything I did to make myself a target.”

The Seeker stared at her for a few moments before she looked away with a sigh. “I don’t mean to be rude, I’m simply trying to determine what sort of woman I am being compelled to bring with me, and accept into the Inquisition.”

“A woman who just wants to survive, and help people when she can,” Evelyn answered, her tone firm. “I promise you, Seeker, I will do my best not to be any trouble. But I make no guarantees for other people’s behavior.”

To her great surprise, the Seeker smirked. “You're right, I suppose that is all I can ask of you,” she agreed. “Thank you, Evelyn. And if you see the Commander, please tell him I stopped by.”

“I will,” Evelyn nodded and then walked to the door, opening it for the Seeker. “Is there anything else, Seeker?”

“No, that is all,” and the other woman walked briskly out of the room, as if she had other important business to attend to.

Evelyn closed the door behind her and pressed her forehead against the wood.

If anything, her life was about to get much more interesting than it already was, she could tell.


	18. Chapter 18

“At least it’s almost healed,” she sighed as she ran a finger over the scar in his lip.

“I suppose it makes retching easier,” he groaned, and leaned over the side of the bed toward the chamber pot again.

Evelyn hummed in sympathy as he heaved, and she rubbed his back in circles. “Just let it out, there’s nothing else to do,” she soothed. He could hear her dipping the cloth she was holding in the basin of cool water beside the bed. When he rolled back onto the pillows she began to wipe his face with it, cleaning his mouth and nose before she rinsed the rag off again. She gave him a soft smile as she gently mopped his sweaty brows. “Do you feel any better?”

“I want this damn ship to stop rocking,” he gritted out. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the cooling feeling of the cloth, which she followed with her delicate fingers, brushing his hair off his forehead.

“It won’t be long, it’s only -”

“It’s only two lousy weeks?” he snapped. “I hate this – this rocking, this small dark room -”

His heart raced as he thought it and he clenched his eyes shut in an effort to ignore his surroundings. Frankly he wasn’t sure what was worse, the sickness or the cramped quarters. He felt like he was suffocating, like everything was closing in –

“Cullen, slow down, it’s all right – take a deep breath,” Evelyn murmured, and he felt her rest her hand on his chest as she leaned over him. “Deep breath, darli – Cullen, deep breath.”

Her slip caught his attention and helped to distract him until he was able to take deeper breaths to steady himself. After several moments of meditative breathing, he opened his eyes and looked up at her. “What was that?”

“I think you were panicking, you -” she explained.

“No, what you were calling me,” he raised an eyebrow at her. “You sounded like you were saying something else.”

“You’re hearing things,” she deadpanned, but he noticed in the dim light that she was blushing. “I was saying ‘deep,’ that’s all.”

“Really?” He reached a hand up and brushed her hair behind her ear. “It sounded like when you called me ‘darling’ before, when we were in bed. When I was buried deep inside you and you were coming so loudly you likely woke all of the Gallows.”

She frowned and stared at him. “When – what -”

“That’s happened a few times, actually,” he smirked at the embarrassed, bewildered look on her face.

“I – well, I’d say anything in the heat of the moment, I sort of – lose myself and just say the first thing that comes to mind,” she looked away from him, her blush deepening. It was endearing, how flustered she was that he had caught her calling him 'darling.'

“Is that – is that how you think of me?” he asked softly.

“I,” she paused and stared at the rag in her hand. “I suppose you’re dear to me, yes. If anything you’ve saved me, multiple times.”

He frowned. “Am I just your protector, then? You feel indebted to me?”

She worried her bottom lip and shot him a few furtive glances. “No, that’s not all.”

Her confession was barely audible, but it tugged at his heartstrings. He wanted to tell her he understood, that he wasn’t entirely certain what she was to him, but that he knew he felt more than responsibility and lust for her. He had never been good with words, though, and as he tried to think of what he could say the ship gave another lurch and his stomach reeled.

Leaning over the bed quickly he retched, but missed the chamber pot. He heard Evelyn give a soft, sympathetic, _“oh!”_ and as soon as the wave of nausea left him he felt overcome with embarrassment and shame.

“Evelyn, I’m – I’m so sorry, did I get any on you -”

“It’s fine, darling,” she soothed, wiping his mouth with the cloth again. “You’re fine, don’t worry about it. Just – just let yourself get through it.”

He closed his eyes so that he didn’t have to see the evidence of where he had gotten sick, trying to steady himself against the continual rocking.

This was his own personal misery, and he hated that she was there, that she was seeing him like this. He was weak, and pathetic, and she didn’t need to ever think of him like this.

Then again, it was comforting having her there, easing his discomfort. He reached out with his hand, and grasped her fingers in his.

“Evelyn?”

“Yes, Cullen?”

For a moment he was silent, unable to think of the right words. There were a few that came to mind, but he frowned and pushed them aside.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes, sorry I just, I wanted to say – um, I -” he sighed and mentally shook himself. “Thank you, Evelyn.”

 

* * *

 

The salty spray of the sea was refreshing, after hours spent cooped up in the small quarters with Cullen. He had finally fallen asleep, and she stepped out to stretch and breathe in the fresh air.

They were halfway through their journey, and she was beginning to feel relieved that it had gone by so quickly. She constantly reassured Cullen that their journey would take no time at all, that he wouldn’t suffer long. But she was beginning to hope it would pass even faster than it had, no longer able to watch him endure as much as he was.

He was seasick, which he confessed had happened the only other time he was on a ship as well. His lyrium withdrawal definitely wasn’t helping, even though she was still encouraging him to gradually wean himself off. He was down to taking half of what he had once taken, but still his body was not reacting well to being taken off of it. And on top of that, his claustrophobia…

He wouldn’t tell her for certain that that was what it was, but she could tell. He’d begun to wake up from nightmares, thrashing in his terrors and crying out about a cage, and torture. The name Uldred came to him in those times, but Evelyn was too scared to bring it up and upset him by asking. She hoped that maybe he would tell her one day, when he was ready.

She knew what it was to keep secrets, even though she was beginning to feel like maybe he was worth trusting with hers.

She frowned when she thought over their conversation a few days before, when he had caught her calling him darling. He’d seemed like he wanted to tell her something that night, but instead all he had said was thank you.

Evelyn sighed, thinking about the many turns of their relationship. She never thought she would be sailing to Ferelden with a Templar – even one who was leaving the Order. She never thought she would be joining something called the Inquisition, or traveling with a Seeker.

And she certainly never thought she’d feel this, the confusing tug of emotions she felt every time she looked at him, even when she was having to wipe vomit off his face.

“Hey, little healer,” she heard from behind her, and she turned to see their traveling companion, Varric, approaching. “I haven’t seen you out much, are you being confined to your quarters? Did you manage a prison break?”

She smirked at his teasing and shook her head. “I’ve been tending to the Knight – or I guess, just the Commander, now. He hasn’t been feeling well.”

“Ah yes,” he nodded as he stopped beside her. “I suppose as a healer it’s your duty to tend to him, eh?”

Evelyn raised her eyebrow. “Well, yes, I -”

“Just like in Kirkwall?” There was a twinkle in his eye, an almost knowing one as he gently teased her.

“Are you insinuating something?” Evelyn folded her arms before herself, frowning.

“I thought that was obvious,” he shrugged, still smiling.

“I owe the Commander, that’s all,” Evelyn said slowly, trying to make her voice even. It was clear he didn’t believe her, and she felt her stomach tie into knots. If it was that obvious to the dwarf after such a short period of time, she worried at how obvious it could be to everyone else.

“Yes, I’m sure,” he mused, pursing his lips as he looked out at the sea. “Especially considering the cushy job he got for you, I’m certain you owe him a great deal. I wonder, how might you pay him back -”

“I should go check on him, he wasn’t doing well earlier,” Evelyn interrupted and she walked briskly across the deck, ducking as she headed down the dark passageway that led to the quarters.

She heard cries drifting through the dark, making her heart skip a beat, and she hurried forward. When she opened the door to his quarters she saw that he was thrashing in his small bed, and she rushed forward after closing the door behind her.

“Cullen, darling, wake up -”

She tried to shake him gently, and he lashed out at her. He caught her on the shoulder after she ducked his fist, and she stumbled back slightly with a cry. “Cullen! Please -”

He sat up suddenly and looked around wildly. She could see his eyes wide and unseeing as he took in his surroundings. It was clear he didn’t actually know where he was at the moment, and she tried murmuring soothing words without approaching him. After several tries he finally looked up at her.

“Evelyn? Maker did I – did I -” he ran a hand over his face, wiping the sweat off his brow.

“It’s fine, are you all right?” she asked, resisting the urge to rub her shoulder even though it was hurting from where he had struck her.

“I – I am, but Evelyn, if I hurt you – I’m so sorry. I -”

“Please, it’s all right,” she sat beside him on the bed and ran her fingers through his hair. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

He hung his head and seemed like he was too embarrassed for a moment to tell her. He gave her a furtive glance, and then looked away from her, toward the bulkhead beside him. “Could you stay with me? I know we’ve been trying to – to act like we’re not, uh – together. But I sleep better when you’re here, when I – have you in my arms.”

His voice was soft, his confession barely audible. It was like he was weak and couldn’t resist telling her because of how miserable he was.

“Of – of course I’ll stay,” she murmured, though she was nervous. She didn’t want Cassandra to get suspicious, especially after the conversation she had just had with Varric. She was beginning to worry that by the time they made it to the Temple of Sacred Ashes, everyone was going to know that she and the Commander had a sexual relationship.

But he needed her, and she couldn’t resist the sad look in his amber eyes. She stood and removed her boots and her clothes, stripping down to her smalls. He scooted over on the cot, and she straightened the blankets before she crawled into the bed beside him.

She lay back and held her arms out, and after a moment’s hesitation he pressed his head to her chest and wrapped his arms around her. His thick layer of stubble was prickly on her bare skin, and he felt clammy, but she stroked his back and ran her fingers through his hair to soothe him. He didn’t say anything else, as if he was embarrassed by how closely he was having to snuggle against her, ashamed of his admission that he needed her.

She didn’t speak either, and held him against her breasts until he fell asleep. When his breathing deepened and he no longer stirred against her, she pressed a kiss to his forehead and smiled to herself.

“Good night, my love,” she whispered, and closed her eyes to find her own slumber as she held him close against her heart.


	19. Chapter 19

“I made you something.”

Cullen looked up from where he was setting up his sleeping roll to see her standing inside his tent, a small smile on her face and a bundle in her arms.

“You what?” he asked and straightened.

“I made you – well, I – I had the time, and we were coming to Ferelden, and it’s cold,” she sighed and held the bundle out to him. “I bought some supplies and reused something of yours, I – I hope you don’t mind.”

He took the bundle from her and unrolled it. Crimson cloth and reddish brown fur unfurled, and for a moment he simply stared at it. “I – Evelyn, you made this?”

“Yes, I used your old sash,” she told him, and he could tell her voice was soft, hesitant like she worried he’d be angry with her. “You were getting your armor reworked, but I thought you could use something else, something warm and more – well, something to make you stand out. I hope you’re not angry that I used your sash, it just -”

“No, Evelyn, it’s – it’s perfect,” he continued looking it over. He hadn’t ever expected to like something he wore so much, since he’d only ever worn his Templar uniform and armor without a second thought. Now though, she was handing him something unique, something she had made specifically for him.

“So you like it?” she was peering up into his face, uncertainty evident in her eyes.

“Very much,” he answered as he began to pull it across his shoulders. “How did you -”

She giggled. “I have my ways. I had all of that time in your quarters, while you were finishing your business in Kirkwall. But I had time on the ship, too, since you were confined to your cabin.”

“Sweet Maker, don’t remind me,” he groaned as he remembered the way the ship had consistently lurched, how sick he had felt. They had been on dry land for two days now, but it still made him nearly gag to remember the last two weeks.

She stepped forward and helped him adjust the fur mantle and cloak. “It looks good on you,” she murmured, and she gave him a sweet smile. “You look very dashing, very commanding.”

He chuckled. “I suppose that’s a good thing.”

“Oh it is,” she giggled. “You’re important, _Commander_ , you need to look the part.”

“You do too much for me, Evelyn,” he said softly, and he ran his fingers along her cheek before sliding his hand into her hair. “You didn’t have to do this for me, really.”

“I wanted to,” she looked up into his eyes and grinned. “How are you feeling, by the way?”

“Much better,” he murmured, and he gave her a crooked smirk. “In fact, I think I’m much, _much_ better. Enough to try to convince you to stay with me tonight.”

“Cullen, they’re already suspicious enough, I can’t -”

But he cut her off with a kiss, twisting his lips against hers as he held her close to him. The fur on his neck felt warm and inviting, and every time his skin brushed it he thought of her. He thought of how she had spent so much time working on it for him, how she had put thought and effort into it. His other arm wrapped around her waist and he pulled her closer, taking a few steps and trying to direct her toward the sleeping roll he had just set up.

“Cullen -” she moaned.

“Shhh, Evelyn, someone will hear you,” he teased. “I want you – it’s been too long, the ship wasn’t exactly the most romantic place. But now, Evelyn – I want you tonight. Let me take you, I’ve missed you.”

She whimpered softly against his lips and he gently encouraged her down to the sleeping roll. His fingers worked eagerly at her breeches, pulling greedily at her smallclothes until she was bare for him. He stripped her legs fully and spread them, and savored the surprised gasps and muffled cries that greeted his breath on her sex as he leaned over her.

“Evelyn – sweet Evelyn, I missed you, I missed your taste, the feel of you,” he whispered against her. He spread her wet folds with his fingers and groaned before he began to run his tongue along her excited pearl. “Maker, dearest, you’re so wet, so excited for me. Did you miss me?”

“Yes,” she hissed, her breath escaping through her teeth and prolonging the word. She arched off the sleeping roll with a whimper, and he quickened the pace and attention of his tongue.

He loved this, he loved running his tongue along her and listening to her lose herself. He could tell, the way that she cried and moaned that she was enjoying herself, that she was hardly able to contain her response to his affection. He focused on what he was doing to her, so determined to give her pleasure that he hardly noticed anything happening around them.

It was why several minutes later, the shocked cry of someone else was able to thoroughly surprise him.

Evelyn pushed his head away and they both quickly sat up, Cullen wiping his mouth as Evelyn tried to pull the nearest item over her lap to cover herself.

“I suppose I should have known,” the voice accused bitterly and Cullen looked at the tent flaps to see Cassandra standing and glaring at the pair before her. “I knew it had to be more than -”

“Cassandra, I can explain,” Cullen began. His heart was racing, the taste of Evelyn on his tongue thoroughly distracting him from their interloper.

“Yes please do, Commander,” Cassandra gritted out. “I’d like to know why and how I got tricked into bringing your lover with us.”

Cullen sighed and chanced a glance at Evelyn. It was the wrong move, because the look on her face tore through him. She looked positively terrified, as if she was waiting for Cassandra to kick her out, to hurt her and abandon her. He hated thinking about the life she had led that she instantly expected the worst, always.

“I did mean it when I said I’m her protector, and that I needed to bring her with me to keep her safe,” Cullen sighed. He tore his gaze from Evelyn and met the Seeker’s piercing stare. “And she will be beneficial to the Inquisition. But she and I – we are also lovers. She is -”

He hesitated before he said “ _mine_ ,” unsure of how to explain that to anyone but Evelyn. He worried over sounding like he had coerced her, when all he meant was that she belonged with him, she belonged to him in a way he'd never thought he'd feel with anyone.

“We are together,” he said instead.

“And is this the reason -”

“It is one of many,” he rushed to assure her. “I’m sorry I wasn’t forthcoming, but I – I didn’t want you to refuse her. I needed her to come with me.”

Cassandra pursed her lips and looked between the two of them. Cullen chanced a glance at Evelyn and saw her staring down at her hands in her lap, an indecipherable look on her face.

“You needed to tell me, I can’t believe -”

“Blame me, Cassandra, please – do not hold this against Evelyn,” he said. “It was my decision, I persuaded her to keep it secret. Our relationship has no effect on the Inquisition, or our roles. She can still come with us, I can still perform the duties of Commander -”

“I trust you haven’t lied about anything else?” the Seeker interrupted, her voice harsh.

“No, that was the only detail I omitted,” Cullen confessed. “I didn’t think my private affairs were worth disclosing.”

“They were when I was asked to bring your paramour with us,” she chided him. “But – I suppose there is nothing I can do about it now. I’ll be keeping an eye on you both, though. This – this cannot interfere. This cannot get in the way -”

“It won’t, Seeker,” Evelyn chimed in, her voice quiet but firm.

“My apologies, Cassandra,” Cullen added.

Cassandra merely glared at them both for several more moments before she sighed and rubbed her forehead with her fingers. “Well, I suppose…yes…”

She turned as if to leave before Cullen called her back.

“Wait, Seeker, what were you doing in here in the first place?” he asked, frowning.

“I was hoping to see how you were doing after being seasick for so long, as well as with your withdrawal,” Cassandra answered. “When you didn’t reply but I heard moans, I got suspicious.”

“I – I see,” Cullen sighed. “Well, I – I’m feeling much better.”

“Clearly,” the Seeker raised an eyebrow at him, a small smirk on her face.

She gave them one last appraising glare before she turned on her heel and left the tent.

Evelyn slapped a hand to her forehead and groaned as she flung herself back on the pillow. “Maker, I can’t believe it,” she grumbled under her breath, her voice barely audible.

“That could have gone worse,” he shrugged.

“You’re right, I could be out on my own, thrown from the shelter of the Inquisition because you insisted we keep our relationship private -”

“Would you rather they refused you coming because of it?” he asked, sounding incredulous.

“Are you kidding? Like you would have chosen to stay with me over taking this position. It would have been ‘goodbye Evelyn, it’s been a treat,’ and then you would have just left,” she snapped.

“No, Evelyn, that’s not – I never would have left Kirkwall without you -”

“Pardon me if I find that hard to believe,” she sighed deeply.

“Evelyn, dearest,” he leaned over her, bracing his forearms by her head. “I wouldn’t have left you behind. I would have gone anywhere, so long as you were by my side. This was just – this was our best option.”

She spread her fingers and peered at him from between the gaps. “Do you mean it?”

“Of course I mean it,” he leaned down and pressed a few hurried kisses to her lips. “And I don’t care if Cassandra knows. I’ll keep them from harming you, from getting rid of you. You’re safe, with me. I promise.”

She stared at him for several long moments before she finally gave another sigh. “All right, Cullen. I believe you, darling.”

His heart raced to hear the words, somehow thrilled by her trust.

“What do you say I pick up where I left off, dearest?” he wiggled his eyebrows teasingly at her, and a small smile tugged up at the corners of her mouth.

“All right, I – I suppose that’s acceptable.”

He gave her a crooked grin and kissed his way down her body, his hands grasping her as he ran his tongue against her soft skin.

In an odd way, he was happy that they’d been caught. He no longer had to hide it from Cassandra, and an odd, possessive pride came upon him when he thought about _how_ they’d been caught.

They may have started as a tit-for-tat deal for protection, and he certainly didn’t think he could have predicted getting caught by a Seeker with his face buried between Evelyn’s legs.

Though strangely, he was incredibly, peculiarly pleased that that was how he had been caught with her.


	20. Chapter 20

“Oh for the love of the Maker – would you _hold still_?” Evelyn gritted out and tightened her hold on the Seeker’s shoulder. “I can’t assess the damage if you keep moving -”

“It’s nothing, I don’t need -” Cassandra protested, trying again to pull away from Evelyn. She stumbled slightly, though, and Evelyn clucked her tongue at her.

“You’re losing a lot of blood, please Seeker, let me help you,” Evelyn pleaded. Cassandra finally let her guide her to a nearby stump and sat down, though she was scowling as if she was thoroughly reluctant to let the healer inspect her. Evelyn bent over the Seeker’s arm and grimaced when she saw how mangled the wound was. “I should be able to heal it, and I have elfroot in my pack to help, and for the pain.”

Cassandra grunted noncommittally and looked away, but let Evelyn fuss over her. She nodded her permission when Evelyn hesitated before using her magic, but she gave her a questioning look.

“Sorry, I learned my lesson about asking first with you Chantry types,” Evelyn murmured as she focused on the green glow of healing magic she was running over the Seeker’s wound.

“His – did you try to heal his lip?” Cassandra asked, looking over to where Cullen was walking through the injured and dead of the bandits who had ambushed them.

“Yes – he, um, didn’t take kindly to my magic,” Evelyn answered slowly, her voice low. “It wasn’t the first time I was Silenced, and I doubt it will be the last. The life of an apostate, really.”

“How – how did you two -” the other woman trailed off and pursed her lips. It was obvious she wanted to know, but Evelyn gave her no encouragement. She would answer a direct question, but she wasn’t going to just reveal everything without prompting. She was still mortified by the way the Seeker had walked in on them the other night, when Cullen had been intent on pleasuring her despite the risks. “It seems odd to me, considering everything I’ve heard about him, that the man has an apostate as a lover. How did you two meet?”

Evelyn chuckled slightly as she began to wrap bandages around the raw skin of the woman’s freshly healed arm. “We met at the Hanged Man, actually.”

“Oh? And how – how did you two take up together?”

Evelyn looked up into the Seeker’s dark eyes and considered for a moment. The truth would sound shocking to others, even though to her and Cullen it had been more than agreeable and consensual. Evelyn still felt weak in the knees when she remembered their first time, and then again when she recalled the way he had claimed her so passionately after she offered herself to him as a deal. But the Seeker likely wouldn’t understand the nature of their relationship, and after a moment’s careful thinking Evelyn decided on her answer. “It was – one night, that just sort of kept happening. Before we knew it, it was habit, and we realized that we, um, wanted it to stay that way.”

“Even though you’re an apostate, and he was the Knight-Commander?” Cassandra raised her eyebrows at her.

“It – didn’t seem to matter to us, somehow,” Evelyn shrugged and tied the bandages tightly. “There, I’ll give you some elfroot but you should be fine by tomorrow or the next day.”

“Thank you, Evelyn,” the Seeker said as they both stood. “I – I appreciate you helping me, though I know you have plenty of reason not to.”

“You’ve brought me on as your healer, why would I refuse to do my job?” Evelyn frowned. “Seeker, I – I have nothing against you. I may not have been a part of the Circle, but I do not hate the Chantry, and you’ve given me no reason to believe you wish me ill. You didn’t even turn me out after you discovered that I was, um, your Commander’s lover.”

“Am I right in thinking that is why he insisted you accompany us?” the Seeker asked, and Evelyn was stunned by her sudden bluntness.

“I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t part of why,” Evelyn admitted. “But – he does mean it, that he is my protector. He swore to keep me safe, and that includes taking me with him wherever he goes. If you had refused, he – he said that he would have found another way for us to leave Kirkwall together.”

Cassandra raised her eyebrows. “I see,” she mused after a moment, and she looked back to where Cullen stood. “I suppose I didn’t realize things could be that serious.”

Evelyn frowned and wanted to correct the other woman, but something stopped her. She still wasn’t clear about the nature of her relationship with Cullen or their attachment and feelings for one another. Every time she thought about it, she felt anxious when she realized that at any moment he could discard her, and sometimes she worried that he would. But then he would be sweet to her, and caring, and almost act like he cared deeply for her. She knew how she felt, she had known since her revelation after the attack, when she had finally come to understand that she loved him.

Still, though, she couldn’t help but doubt and think that to him it was just sex, that he just liked having her around because she was always willing to spread her legs for him.

She suddenly chafed at the idea that he might cast her aside if someone else caught his attention or if he tired of her, and she cleared her throat and began repacking her supplies. Melancholy was threatening to overwhelm her, and she kept her eyes averted from where he was talking with Rylen. She wasn’t entirely certain where her doubt came from, but she felt like Cassandra’s nosy questioning hadn’t helped.

How had they taken up together, and continued as they had, despite their extreme differences? At first it had seemed like a mutual hatred, and when she thought about the way he had treated her for the first few weeks she knew that underneath the lust had been anger on both sides. Gradually that had changed, but she couldn’t even pinpoint how or when. All she knew was that the loathing had transformed into tenderness, and that now even when he was a little demanding and rough with her, the look in his eyes was softer and more affectionate than it had been. Every time he said _‘you’re mine’_ now, she didn’t feel like a bargaining chip or a possession any longer – instead, she felt a sense of belonging, and peace.

It was like being home, when he said that to her.

She sighed and closed her pack, fixing it to her saddle and getting ready to resume their journey to Haven.

Cullen caught her eye finally and looked her over, and she knew that he was making certain that she was all right. The ambush had been a close call, and he had had to run through a bandit who had her cornered. The gleam in Cullen’s eyes now as he looked her over told her – when they made camp for the night, he was going to spend his time reassuring himself that nothing had happened to her.

The thought made her heart start racing and she pulled herself onto her horse, trying to distract her mind from her anticipation of what he would do.

The rest of their journey that day was uneventful, and Cullen kept his place at the front of their small convoy and didn’t say a word to Evelyn. She rode beside Varric and listened to him tell tales, and found herself feel grateful when they decided to make camp earlier than normal. The ambush had exhausted everyone and put them on edge, and as they ate around the campfire there was a distinct lack of their normal chattering and banter.

“Come to bed,” Cullen leaned down and whispered in her ear suddenly, and she turned to look at him with wide eyes. He had excused himself a while ago, and she hadn’t realized he had set up his tent and been waiting for her.

“I -”

“Now, Evelyn,” he murmured so only she could hear him, and he straightened and held a hand out to her.

She looked around before she took his hand, feeling slightly embarrassed by the bold way he was leading her to his tent and making no secret of the fact that they were sharing for the night. Once they were inside he began to strip her of the new armor he had outfitted her with, and she noticed that he was already in just his shirt and breeches.

“Are you all right?” she asked as she began to remove his shirt. He had been gruffer, more irritable and easier to anger since he began weaning himself off lyrium. It was slightly concerning to her, but she was trying her best to be understanding about it.

As an answer he cradled the back of her head with his hand and pulled her to him in a fierce kiss. After several moments he pulled away. “I keep seeing that bandit raise his axe as he walked toward you,” he whispered. He began to back her toward his sleeping roll and eased her down onto it. “All day, that’s all I’ve been able to think about. Evelyn, what if -”

“Nothing happened to me, Cullen,” she murmured, and wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him down to her. “You don’t need to worry about me, I’m fine.”

He began to press kisses to every inch of her, caressing her until she was panting and softly gasping his name. After what felt like an eternity of his intense attention, he sat back and rolled her onto her stomach easily before he slid out of his breeches at last. She propped herself on her elbows, looking over her shoulder as he positioned himself over her and began thrusting himself into her.

She gasped in surprise and then moaned, burying her face in the pillow. She cried out his name as he began moving, but her soft whimpers were muffled. He was straddling her, his hips slapping against the plump cheeks of her rear with each of his thrusts, and he didn’t seem bothered with trying to keep quiet.

“Evelyn – Maker, you’re so tight, you feel so good – you look so good like this, lying beneath me,” he groaned. He grasped her round cheeks roughly and massaged them as he continued fucking her, and he moved faster when he noticed she was having to bury her face more firmly in the pillow to suppress her noise. “Tell me what you are, like a good girl.”

“Cullen, I’m -” she tried to protest, not wanting to be heard, but he slapped one side of her ass and made her yelp. “I’m – I’m yours.”

“Say it again, dearest,” he moaned, and he reached a hand between the sleeping roll and her hips so that he could touch her.

“I’m yours,” she repeated breathlessly, and she bit the pillow to stifle a scream as she felt herself begin to fall apart. He growled and thrust more forcefully until she felt him lose his rhythm, and she could tell he was finishing with her.

Evelyn kept her face buried in the pillow, trying to regain her senses and come down from the intensity of the release he had given her. When he leaned over and began to nibble her earlobe, he was chuckling and tenderly running a hand over her back.

“I love – hearing you say that,” he murmured. She frowned a little, noticing the way he had paused almost awkwardly. “Dearest, you’re amazing. You’re amazing, and sometimes – sometimes I can’t believe you’re mine.”

The tender confession banished all of the day’s earlier doubts, and she smiled to herself as he pulled her into his arms to sleep for the night.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to see the steamy gif that inspired part of this chapter or see this chapter in its original form, [here's the link](https://laraslandlockedblues.tumblr.com/post/169805873313/possession) to the Tumblr post.
> 
> This chapter originally appeared as the Tumblr prompt, "I'm not jealous" but once I set it within this canon it just - fit. So here it is, as part of this story <3
> 
> xx,  
> Lara

“Come on, Cullen, dance with me,” she repeated, giggling up at him as she made her request.

“I told you, I don’t dance,” he sighed, tugging on the collar of his shirt as he looked around the crowded tavern.

They had been in Haven for a few days, and he had been so busy preparing for the Conclave he had hardly had any time to relax. She had come to his tent and insisted that he join her, though, and now he was wishing he had just convinced her to stay in his tent with him instead. But it seemed she had been determined to get him out from behind his desk, and so here he was standing at the bar, regretting everything.

“Please, Cullen, no one will laugh at you,” she told him. She leaned forward, setting aside her tankard and placing a hand on his arm. “I just want to dance with you. It’s not like we have to hide anymore, and I just - I want a dance with my lover. Is that too much to ask?”

He stared down at her, taking in the imploring look in her translucent eyes. He sighed, wanting to give in and say yes because of that look, since that look made him want to give her all of Thedas and both of its moons, if he could manage it somehow. He wasn't worried about people laughing at him, though, he just -

“I don’t dance,” he grumbled again.

She sighed and rolled her eyes, looking away from him and staring over the crowd as she drummed her fingers on the bar they were standing at. She looked like she was contemplating something, as if she was irritated.

After shooting him a furtive glance, she suddenly pushed away from the bar and made her way through the crowd, her eyes fixed on someone. He frowned and watched her go, his stomach instantly tying into knots as he watched her walk away from him.

His insides clenched even more tightly when he saw her place her hand on Rylen’s forearm and lean up to whisper in his ear. Rylen looked at her, surprised, and then nodded eagerly after shooting a nervous glance at Cullen. The Knight-Captain set his tankard aside and took Evelyn by her hand, leading her to a free space and pulling her into his arms.

Cullen’s jaw clenched as he watched them begin to rotate on the spot, Rylen holding her around the waist with one hand while his other cradled her delicate fingers as he led her in the dance. They were speaking to each other, almost looking like they were joking, and Evelyn’s giggles carried back to Cullen over the music and the busy commotion of the tavern’s patrons.

He felt his grip tighten on his tankard as he watched the other man holding Evelyn so close, his nose near her ear as he spoke softly to her. She leaned her head back as she giggled again in response, and she looked up into his face with a wide, inviting smile on her face. Rylen seemed to tighten his grip on her waist, his fingers stroking her where he was holding her.

Cullen slammed his tankard down after he drained it, and he pushed his way through the crowd toward the couple who was irritating him so much. He didn’t say anything to either of them, instead he simply pulled Evelyn by her arm away from the other man.

“Commander, I -” Rylen stared at him, looking stunned and almost terrified by the scowl on his face.

“Go,” Cullen told him, and then he looked down at Evelyn as he pulled her roughly into his arms.

She glared up at him and didn’t place her hands on him like she had had them on Rylen. “Oh, suddenly you feel like dancing?” she raised an eyebrow mockingly. She was challenging him, and he wasn't sure she knew how fine a line she was walking.

“I feel like not seeing you dance with another man,” he growled, his voice low. “How many times do I have to tell you, Evelyn? You’re mine.”

“Is that so?” she mused, her own voice biting with her anger. “You don’t  _own_ me, you don’t have the right to get this jealous -”

“I’m not jealous,” he interrupted, his tone still low and dangerous. “I know who it is that you’ll go to tonight, and trust me - it won’t be Rylen.”

“So confident for someone who can’t even grant me a single dance without having to be goaded into it,” she quipped, and she looked away from him.

She was hurt, he could tell, and he knew for certain now that she had been intentional in her choice of dance partner and actions. She wanted a reaction from him, as if she wanted to see if he cared the way she wanted him to.

“I don’t have to dance with you to know that you’ll always come to me, Evelyn,” he whispered in her ear. He pulled his head back and watched as she swallowed hard, as if she was trying to ignore the truth of his words. “You know you’re mine, you know you belong to me.”

She scoffed lightly, still keeping her face averted. After a long moment she finally pushed him back and turned, rushing through the crowd away from him.

He scowled and followed after her, pushing through the patrons and not caring who he was shoving aside. When he got outside he saw her rushing away through the snow, and he smirked to himself as he jogged after her. His legs were longer, though, and soon he was able to reach out and grab her arm.

“Let go of me -”

He ignored her protests and dragged her after him into the shadows of the nearest cabin.

“Cullen, how dare -”

He pushed her against the wall and didn’t hesitate at all before he crushed his lips to hers, twisting them greedily until they parted so that he could slip his tongue into her mouth. She gasped and moaned, but her hands were pushing against his chest as if she wasn’t ready to give in to his affection yet.

He was nearly suffocating her with his kiss, he could tell, and she seemed like she was struggling to breathe against his devouring mouth. “Cullen -” she whimpered, but he silenced her with another kiss.

Sliding his hand up her torso he grasped her breast through her clothes and reveled in the surprised moan that escaped against his mouth. He was rougher than he really meant to be in his caresses, but she was leaning into him, no longer trying to push him away and instead twisting his shirt in her hands as she clung to him.

He slid a hand down her belly and under the waist of her breeches, and he bit her lip when he heard the sharp intake of breath that greeted his finger as he rubbed it against her pearl.

“You’re excited, Evelyn,” he purred against her mouth. “Could it be that I’m right? I know you want me. Tell me.”

“No,” she whispered.

He was reminded of the other times she’d refused him like this, as if she was too proud to admit it, but he remembered how she eventually caved and confessed. He decided to turn the tables this time instead of continuing to press her. He was still irritated picturing her dancing with his second, and wanted to find a way to torment her in return.

“Fine,” he deadpanned, and he pulled away from her, removing his hand from her breeches and stepping back. “I’ll see you tomorrow, I’ve had a long day.”

He resisted the smirk that was threatening to cross his face as he walked away from her, and when he heard her groan in frustration behind him he bit his lip to keep himself from laughing.

He made it to his tent and tugged off his boots before he heard footsteps approaching, and he tried to keep his face neutral as he slowly continued to strip his clothes. When the tent flaps opened he didn’t look up, and moved about the space as if he was engrossed in the task of folding the shirt he had just removed.

“Cullen,” her voice was soft and pleading, and he felt himself harden even more at the sound of it.

He looked up and stared at her for a moment. “Yes, Evelyn?”

She slowly walked toward him, and he noticed her eyes were wide, her pupils dilated in the haze of her lust. Her gaze flicked down to his breeches as she licked her lips. “I - you’re right, I want you. I always want you.”

For a long moment he simply held her gaze, and he could see the way her knees seemed to be weakening as she worried her bottom lip with her teeth.

“Please,” she begged softly.

It was all he needed to hear, and with a low groan he pulled her to him and kissed her deeply as his hands worked at removing her clothes. When he had finished stripping her he undid his breeches and let them slide down his legs, stepping out of them as he pulled her into his arms and lifted her.

She wrapped her legs around him, returning his kisses with her increasing, eager passion, her fingers running through his hair and her arms tight around his neck. “Cullen,” she moaned, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean -”

“Never do that again,” he commanded her firmly, the tone of his voice brooking no denial.

“I won’t, I promise,” she gasped as he knelt on the cot and pressed fevered kisses to her neck. With a panting moan she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him down on top of her, laying back on the cot as she spread her legs on either side of him. “Please, Cullen - darling, I want you, please - take me.”

He loved that she had continued to call him darling after he caught her slip and call him that when he had been sick on the ship. The word echoed through his mind as he nipped and sucked on the skin of her throat, running his fingers along her to make sure she was ready for him. He groaned when he felt how excited she was, and after teasing her with a finger for a few moments he positioned himself at her opening.

“Do you want me, Evelyn?” he whispered in her ear.

She moaned and arched off the cot, rolling her hips toward him as she tried to encourage him into her. “Yes - I do. Please, Cullen - I want you. Please.”

She kept whispering the word and he slowly slid himself into her, inch by inch until he was as deep as he could get himself. Her legs tightened around him as she cried out, and he smirked before he began to move within her, slow and teasing at first. After several moments of teasing her with a leisurely pace, though, he began to jerk his hips harder into her until she was crying out with each of his thrusts.

Incoherent pleas and prayers to the Maker were escaping her lips, and he greedily watched her face as she responded eagerly to each of his movements within her. He slipped a hand between them and smiled when she cried out his name, thrusting sporadically against his finger as he stroked her with it.

“Maker, Evelyn - are you ready to come for me?” he teased her as he felt her clenching around him.

“Yes, darling - oh, please, Cullen, Cullen,” she trailed off, still occasionally whispering his name as she gasped and panted, her rhythm becoming quicker against his. With a loud cry she arched her back and he felt her throbbing around him, her desperate pleas increasing in volume as she fell apart beneath him. He thrust deep, close to his own release. He groaned and his body shuddered as he found it, watching her desperate response to his movements with complete and utter satisfaction as he filled her with his release.

When they were both sated he propped himself above her and tenderly kissed her face, his lips leaving feather light kisses to her eyelids and her nose.

“You’re mine, Evelyn,” he murmured.

She giggled softly. “And you’re mine, Cullen.”

It was the first time she had said it, but he smiled and pressed a kiss to her lips before he answered. “Yes, dearest - that I am.”


	22. Chapter 22

“Do as I said, like a good girl.”

“Someone could walk in -”

“Then you’d better hurry.”

“Cullen, they’ll hear -”

“Do what I asked you to, Evelyn.”

He watched as she bit her lip but her eyes gleamed as she complied. For all of her protests, he could tell that she was just as desperate to follow his orders as he wanted her to be.

She quickly undid her breeches and slid them down beneath her rear before she turned and bent over the desk. The sight of her lying halfway across his desk, her long hair spread over his reports, bare and waiting for him made him throb with anticipation. He took his hard length in his hand and stroked himself a few times.

She tried to protest, but she’d started it. Sneaking into his tent for a quick kiss and to give him some elfroot for his head had led to her hand in his breeches and a suggestive smile on her lips. She’d eagerly pulled him free and pumped him until he’d warned her that she shouldn’t tease him.

And now, he was eager to show her why she shouldn’t.

He slid a finger into her and groaned. “Evelyn you’re dripping wet for me.”

As an answer she wiggled her hips back against him and bit a knuckle to stifle a moan.

If she was already struggling to stay quiet, this was going to be more fun than he thought.

He positioned himself against her entrance and heard her gasp, and again she tried to wiggle her hips back to encourage him. Clamping his hands on her hips he pushed her forward against the wooden desk and held her steady, preventing her from moving as he slammed into her.

She cried out and pushed her knuckles to her lips, her eyelashes fluttering shut over her eyes as he began to pound himself into her. His pace was relentless, unforgiving, and the sounds of his hips and balls slapping against her filled the silence of the tent. Her muffled cries were getting harder for her to keep under control, and she was writhing on the desk, her cheek pressed to the wood.

He was thrusting hard and fast and her feet were bouncing off the floor as she was lifted by the way he was taking her. She was already fluttering around him, he could feel the throb of the beginning of her orgasm as he slid in and out of her as quickly as he could.

Releasing her hips he gripped the edge of the desk with his hands to steady himself and push deeper into her. She tried to respond to his thrusts now that she was free to move, but her feet were still being lifted from the ground, forcing her to simply lay across the desk and take him into her again and again.

“Touch yourself,” he panted, and grinned when he watched how quickly she reached a hand down to follow his orders.

He was about to lose himself, and he groaned, unable to hold out much longer as he listened to her poorly muffled sobs getting louder. And then he felt it, her whole body shuddering as she throbbed and clenched around him, her body arching and convulsing on the desk beneath him as she tried and failed to hide her cries of his name.

He finally let himself go, and with several last powerful thrusts he spilled his release inside her as he groaned, his vision blackening at the edges.

He wasn’t sure how long they both remained motionless, gasping for breath and trying to come back to themselves out of the haze of their pleasure.

“Mmm, Cullen, I think all of Haven had to have heard that,” she murmured, her eyes still shut and her body limp on the desk. “I – Maker, I can’t – ohhh we shouldn’t have.”

He chuckled and gave one of her bare cheeks a slap, watching as her flesh jiggled when he did. “Good, then maybe all the villagers who have been ogling you will know that you belong to me.”

She giggled and shook her head a little. “You’re so funny,” she sighed. “Do you really think I’m going to run off with some boring blacksmith or something? Where would be the fun in that?”

He leaned over her and pressed a kiss to her cheek and then nipped her earlobe with his teeth. “No, I know you never would. That doesn’t mean I like them thinking that maybe they could convince you to, or looking at you the way they do.”

“Let them look,” she smiled. “I’m yours.”

He straightened and finally pulled himself from her, watching as his release spilled out of her and ran down her thighs. With one last slap to her rear he stumbled slightly and stuffed himself back into his breeches so he could fasten them once more.

She sighed and pushed herself off the desk and readjusted her breeches, shooting him secret smiles as she did. Something in her expression hinted at perfect contentment, and it set his heart racing. Thoughts chased each other through his mind and after a moment he cleared his throat and looked away from the tantalizing sight of her and the feelings she was stirring.

“The Conclave is being set up now, I need to get these orders to the soldiers we have stationed at the Temple,” he sighed.

And suddenly the room spun and he felt lightheaded. He sank into the chair he had pushed back so that he had more room for her to bend over.

“Cullen, are you all right?” she asked, and she crouched before him and peered up into his face. “What is it?”

“I’m – I’m dizzy,” he put his head in his hands. “I just – I just need a few moments, I think -”

“Why don’t you lie down?”

“I just told you, I have to get to the Temple -”

“Send someone else, darling,” she insisted. “Please, you don’t look well. You took the same amount of lyrium today like we talked about, right? When did you eat -”

“Evelyn I’m fine, stop fussing,” he gritted out. But the room wouldn’t stop spinning, even with his eyes closed.

“You’re not fine,” she snapped. “Would you just lie down?”

“Those orders are important -”

“So send Rylen.”

“No, I need to go -”

“Tell me and I’ll take them,” she suggested, and he could hear the frustration in her tone. “You need to rest, you’re putting your body through a lot right now.”

“My body can handle it, I can endure.”

“Please, Cullen, do it for me,” she pleaded, and he finally raised his gaze to hers.

“I – Maker’s breath,” he heaved a sigh. “Fine, Evelyn, I’ll rest if you take those orders to the Temple for me.”

“Thank you,” she said. She helped him to his feet and guided him to his cot, removing pieces of his armor that would get in the way of him lying down. “Can I get you anything?”

“No, you’ve done enough,” he muttered.

“All right,” she walked back over to the desk. “Which orders?”

He sat up and tried to get out of the cot and she immediately hurried back to him and pushed him onto the pillows again.

“Would you just stay in the cot? Andraste’s ass, you’re so stubborn, Cullen,” she scolded him. “Just tell me which orders and I’ll take them.”

“They should be on top, unless you knocked them off when you were writhing around on the desk,” he answered, and he grinned despite the way the room was still spinning. He flung an arm over his eyes and tried to steady himself.

“These?” she asked, and he chanced a peek to see her brandishing some parchment near his face. When he nodded she rolled the parchment and leaned over him. “I’ll get these to the Temple for you and then I’ll be back to check on you, all right?”

He gave a noncommittal grunt, and she responded by pressing her lips to his.

“You’re lucky you have me, you know that?” she teased lightly, and he could feel her breath on his face as she giggled.

“Trust me, Evelyn, I know.”

She giggled again and pressed another kiss to his lips, and then he heard her hurry across the tent to leave for the Temple.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suppose part of this chapter could be seen as mildly dubious consent by some? It's not but I'd rather point it out than get yelled at about it after the fact. 
> 
> Also lots of canon glossing and emotional stuff, as you would expect <3

It was the explosion that pulled him out of his slumber.

Haven shook, and he rolled off of the cot and looked around wildly, trying to determine the source. Screams and cries filled the air outside the tent, and he jumped to his feet and ran to the opening, pushing aside the flaps as quickly as he could.

Everywhere there was chaos.

The sky was torn open, glowing green, swirling, destroyed, and he followed the trail of green down and realized –

It was right above the Temple.

 _Evelyn_.

He rushed back into the tent and quickly pulled on the bits of armor she had removed from him, not bothering with his mantle as he picked up his scabbard and ran out into the village. He tied the belt around his waist and set off at a run through the village, pushing through the crowd of scared onlookers until he reached the gate.

“Commander! The Temple, the Temple of Sacred Ashes -”

“With me!” he yelled.

Rylen fell into pace beside him and they tore down the path together without another word.

Fear gripped his heart and he felt like he couldn’t breathe as he raced toward the swirling vortex of destruction above the Temple in the distance.

_No, Evelyn – please, no._

_Maker, I’ll do anything._

_Please, don’t let her be dead._

_I’ll do everything I can to be a better man._

_I’ll try to be worthy, if you please – please just let her be safe._

_I love her._

_Maker, I love her more than life itself, and I haven’t even told her._

_Please, please –_

_I can’t lose her._

_I love her._

_Please._

“What in Andraste’s – Commander!”

He slowed and turned in the direction Rylen was pointing and saw a tear in the air above them, green like the large vortex but smaller and closer to the ground.

And suddenly a demon fell out of it and unfurled itself, looking around before it saw them and surged forward.

Cullen drew his sword and charged, making short work of the demon with Rylen’s help before another fell from the rift.

And then another.

And another.

“How in the name of Andraste are we supposed to close that thing?” Rylen shouted as he ran a demon through with his sword.

Soldiers charged from behind them and joined the fray, and when Cullen was certain they had the situation under control he began to run along the path to the Temple once more. Rylen followed close behind him.

“Commander, what do you think happened?”

“I don’t know,” he gritted out.

He couldn’t think about it. He couldn’t think about anything but trying to reach her, trying to find her, praying again and again that she was all right.

The Temple was in ruins, charred, debris and bodies lying everywhere. The smell of burning flesh filled his nostrils, and he swallowed hard as he tried to steady himself.

“Evelyn!” he yelled as he began to make his way through the ruins. Soldiers were moving through the ruins, looking for survivors, trying to put out fires. “Evelyn! Where are you?”

Rylen looked sideways at him before he began moving through the debris-strewn landscape, yelling for survivors as well.

Cullen continued calling her name, not caring about anything but finding her. Whenever he heard a cry nearby he hurried forward, again and again disappointed that it wasn’t her. He helped the survivors out of the wreckage, calling soldiers to lend aid and get them back to the healers.

With each that he pulled from the burning rubble, he became more and more distraught when he didn’t find her. Panic made his chest tighten painfully, it made his breathing difficult.

_She can’t be._

_Please, Maker, I’ll change._

_I’ll be a better man._

_Just deliver her back into my arms._

_Let her be safe._

“Commander!”

He turned toward the shout and saw Rylen gesturing him to the center of the ruins. He hurried forward, his heart thumping in his chest, thinking surely it was her, that she was there –

A green rift similar to the one that had been spilling demons was opening just above the ground, and he could see figures shifting within it. He readied his sword again, preparing himself for demons once more.

A figure hurried forward, stumbled, fell out of the portal with a cry as it crashed to its knees. Another figure of pure light was standing behind, watching the person who exited before the rift suddenly closed once more, leaving a faint shimmer of green in the air where it had just been.

Green and black smoke was billowing off the figure, and long black hair was hiding the face from sight.

She was cradling her hand, which was glowing green, letting off sparks of energy similar to the rift she had stumbled out of.

She raised her head and looked up, her cheeks glistening with tears as she tried to take in her surroundings.

“Evelyn!” he cried, throwing aside his sword and hurrying forward. He threw himself to his knees and pulled her into his arms, grasping the hand that was glowing green. “Evelyn – Maker what happened? Are you all right? What’s -”

“Cull -”

But her eyelids drooped and she slumped in his arms, unconscious.

“No, no, no,” he muttered frantically, and grasped her throat with his hand, feeling both sides for her pulse. “Please, be all right, please, please, you’re safe now, I’m here...”

And then he felt it, faint, and far too rapid.

Assured that she was still alive he pulled her into his arms and lifted her. Beyond him he could see Rylen picking the sword he’d thrown aside off the ground, and he barked orders to his second and the surrounding soldiers to secure the area, to continue searching for survivors.

His words sounded like they were coming from someone else, his mind only focused on the delicate figure he was cradling against his chest.

 

 

 

“Commander, please see reason -”

“Reason? You call that reason?” he roared. “That she what – seduced me months ago, before you’d even thought to offer me the position? Before you’d even arrived in Kirkwall? That somehow she knew you would? That somehow she hoped it would get her here? That makes no sense!”

“We can’t rule out the possibility -”

“Yes, you can and you should,” he shouted and took a few steps toward the Seeker. “This wasn’t Evelyn, I know it wasn’t.”

“Commander, please, she walked out of the Fade, she has what looks like a spell on her hand,” Leliana chimed in. “Something she did must have gone wrong -”

“No, you’re wrong. She didn’t do this. She never would,” he growled and glared at the spymaster. “Not Evelyn.”

“And how well do you really know her that you know it wasn’t her?” Leliana asked. “From everything I can tell, you barely know anything about her. Why was she not part of the Circle? Where is her family, why hasn’t she been with them?”

“She never made it to the Circle,” he heaved a sigh. “The Templar she was with went mad.”

“But what about her family?”

“I – I don’t know.”

“And why was she in Kirkwall?”

“She was passing through.”

“To where?”

“Ferelden,” this from Cassandra, and Cullen and Leliana looked at her surprised. “She told me she was trying to catch the next boat to Ferelden, but got stranded when the Chantry was attacked.”

“So how do we know she wasn’t trying to make it here, that she wasn’t trying to -”

“The Conclave hadn’t even been agreed to yet, no one knew it would be here -”

“Some people knew, perhaps she had seduced someone else for information about it -”

“I can tell you for certain that she didn’t.”

“Oh? How do you know that isn’t what she’s been doing, that she hadn’t seduced others before you to try to get close to -”

“Trust me, I _know_.”

He held Leliana’s glare and after a moment she gave a knowing nod, realizing what he was implying.

“There are other ways -”

“No, trust me.”

Silence fell as he continued to glower at the two before him, his back to the door to the room Evelyn was being kept in.

“At least let us in to talk to her.”

“She’s still unconscious.”

“What has Adan said?”

“She – may live,” he swallowed hard, trying to stifle the emotion he felt.

_She has to._

_I won’t lose her._

_It will be my fault if I lose her._

_I won’t let anything take her from me._

“Commander, you have to admit this is all highly suspicious -”

“Yes, it’s suspicious that the Temple was destroyed, it’s suspicious how it happened. That doesn’t mean it was her.”

“Maker’s breath,” Cassandra sighed and threw her hands in the air. “We just want to find -”

The door opened behind them and Adan poked his head out. “Commander, she’s -”

Cullen didn’t even let him finish before he hurried into the room. Evelyn was stirring slightly on the bed, her eyelashes fluttering as she tried to adjust to the light around her.

“Evelyn,” he cried and hurried forward. He took her hand and sat on the edge of the bed beside her, staring down at the glowing green mark marring her porcelain skin. “Evelyn?”

“Cullen?” she looked up at him, frowning and blinking as if she was trying to focus on him. “I – what happened? Where am I?”

“You – you don’t remember?”

“I remember going to the Temple for you, I was dropping off those orders because you were dizzy,” she murmured. “And then – I -” She trailed off and closed her eyes, and after a moment of silence she simply shook her head. “I don’t remember anything. I woke up here, just now. What’s -”

But she broke off with a cry as the mark on her hand suddenly gave a _pop_   and surged with energy.

“I – Evelyn, are you all right?” he searched her face, his heart racing as he realized she looked pained. He wished there was something he could do for her, some way he could take it away from her. “Please, dearest, are you -”

“It is still spreading,” a voice came from beside him, and he looked up to see that strange elven apostate, Solas.

“Spreading? You mean – will it kill her?” he felt his heart leap into his throat when the man nodded sadly. “What can we do?”

“If she – perhaps if she tries to seal the Breach, it may stabilize. If – if it works,” Solas suggested.

“Then that’s what we’ll do.”

Cullen stood and walked to the trunk in the room, pulling out the armor he had purchased for Evelyn before they left Kirkwall. “Solas, go ahead, see what can be done until we get there. Leliana, go to the forward camp and prepare your scouts. Rylen should still be organizing the forces there. Cassandra, come with me. We’ll escort her to the Breach, we’ll get her there and -”

“Commander, we don’t know if it will work -”

“What else do you suggest?” he shouted. “If there’s a chance, we’re taking it. We have to.”

“Cullen -”

The voice was weak and it panicked him to hear it, driving home the desperate seriousness of the situation. He turned to see her struggling to sit up, the large shirt he’d changed her into making her look even more vulnerable.

“Evelyn, we’ll take care of you. Don’t worry, it will be all right,” he hurried to assure her as he set her armor down on the bed. “Come on. We’ll – we’ll fix this.”

There was a flurry of activity as everyone headed their separate ways. Cullen helped Evelyn into her armor, hating the way she grimaced and moaned as the mark continued to spark and hurt her.

For three days she had been unconscious, thrashing and crying out in response to dreams they couldn’t pull her out of. For three days he had fought demons pouring out of rifts outside of the village, exhaustion seeping deep into his bones but duty pushing him on to keep fighting. Occasionally, the few times there was a lull, he hurried back to the village to check on her. But when Rylen had reported that Cassandra and Leliana were trying to have her moved to the dungeon before she woke up, he had torn back to Haven.

He knew she hadn’t done this.

Despite her secrets, he knew she was too good to cause chaos like this. She had no reason to do so. All of her actions resulted from self-preservation or empathy. He’d never known her to intentionally cause harm.

She was innocent, and he would save her.

He had to.

They hurried through the village, and he kept her close to him to avoid the villagers, the people who believed her guilty and wanted her dead.

Cassandra asked her again what had happened, and Evelyn repeated her assertion that she couldn’t remember. When Cullen confirmed why she had been at the Temple, Cassandra dropped the line of questioning. She still seemed suspicious, but for the time being she seemed more anxious to see if they could stop the chaos in the sky.

They fought their way through demons that were wandering the mountain paths, and Evelyn was clearly flagging in strength. After each battle Cullen took her hand and squeezed it, reassuring her that they would find a way.

She was trying to hide her grimaces of pain from him, he could tell. But he knew her face well enough to know when she was steeling herself.

She was determined, and stubborn.

And he loved her for that.

When they came upon Solas and Varric at a rift, Cullen watched in awe as she managed to close it using the mark on her hand.

It was going to work.

Maybe he could save her.

_Please, Maker, let it work._

Everything was blurring together, and he had to work harder to keep himself focused and moving forward.

When was the last time he slept?

Before, when she insisted that he lay down instead of taking the orders to the Temple.

What if he hadn’t given them to her? What if he had gone, what if he had sent Rylen as she suggested?

He shook his head, trying not to let the thoughts distract him. They were coming up on the Breach, taking their forces with them from the forward camp. He glanced at Evelyn as they made their way through the ruins and saw the horror on her face, the shock at the destruction.

He noticed Cassandra watching her reaction as well, and saw that the Seeker seemed satisfied by the genuine surprise Evelyn was showing at what she was seeing.

When echoes began to sound around them, Cullen found himself wondering if he was hallucinating because of his exhaustion and withdrawal. But everyone else could see and hear them, and they all stood in stunned silence when they heard Evelyn’s voice among the echoes.

“I – I don’t remember this, Cullen,” she murmured beside him. “That’s my voice but – I don’t remember speaking those words. I don’t -”

She sounded scared, and when she looked up at him, he felt compelled. He leaned down and pressed a reassuring kiss to her lips. “It’s all right,” he told her. “We’re almost done, you’ll – you’ll be fine.”

She nodded and pressed her lips together, and he watched as she steeled herself for their attempt on the rift beneath the Breach.

He fought near her when demons poured out of the rift, and she erected magical barriers before both of them to protect them as much as she could.

_He wouldn’t let anything take her from him._

_The Maker had sent her back to him, out of the Fade itself._

_Nothing would come between them now._

When she closed the rift, she screamed, and instantly his arms were around her as she fainted. Again he held her delicate throat in his large hand, and again he felt her pulse too faint and rapid.

But she was still alive.

He hadn’t lost her.

She was still his.

_Thank you, Maker. I’ll be worthy of her, I promise._

 

* * *

 

“Are you awake?”

“Mmm.”

Her thighs were pulled apart and hands slid along them before pushing them back slightly. Something touched her, delicately spreading something slick along her.

And then something large pressed against her and slid into her easily, pushing deep inside and stretching her until she moaned.

It pulled out again and then back in to the hilt, repeating slowly so that all she could focus on was the sensation of every inch of it moving within her again and again.

The pace was careful and measured, as if restrained but still powerful, and each time it was thrust into her it made her hips roll back slightly on the bed.

Hot skin pressed against hers and she realized suddenly she had been stripped naked. The pillow beneath her head shifted as weight was put on it, and she felt breath on her ear. Wetness rubbed against her cheek, and the panting breaths in her ear were ragged, trembling as if strained.

The movements within her continued until she felt pleasure building in the pit of her stomach, a familiar ache begging for release.

“Please -”

“I’m sorry.”

“Please, please -”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I know.”

“Forgive me.”

“I do.”

“I can’t stop, keep – keep begging me, keep saying it, beg me -”

“Don't stop. Please, please, _please_ -”

Her toes curled and her back arched against the hot body pressing her down into the mattress as she sobbed. Wave after wave crashed over her until she shuddered violently and vaguely wondered if she had died.

At the same moment the thrusts into her stilled after one last rough push in, and she felt herself filled as a loud, choked moan echoed against her ear. The body on top of her shook and heaved as wet, prickly skin buried itself in the crook of her neck.

“Forgive me.”

“I do, I do -”

“Evelyn, what would I do without you?”

“You won’t have to find out -”

“I’d lost you, you were gone -”

“No, I wasn’t. I’m still here. I’ll never leave you.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise. I promise.”

She was rolled over and pulled atop a hard chest, strong arms clutching her so tightly she almost couldn’t breathe. A hand gently stroked her hair and its soothing pressure lulled her until she slipped back into total darkness, cradled in his arms.

 

When she awoke some time later, she was still being clutched tightly to his chest, his breathing still sounding troubled. She lifted her head and looked at him, surprise filling her as she noticed the glistening trails on his cheeks.

As soon as he saw her looking at him he pulled her further up his body so that he could capture her lips with his. After several moments of a desperate kiss that left her breathless, he pulled away and held her gaze.

“I’ll never forgive myself for letting you go up to the Temple -”

“Cullen, you didn’t know – no one could have known -”

“I love you.”

She broke off in her assurances to him and stared, rendered speechless by his quiet yet firm confession.

“Evelyn,” he rolled them over until he was lying above her, staring down into her face with an intensity in his eyes she had never seen before. “I love you. You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved, the only one I ever will love. You make me want to be a better man, just by being near me, by staying with me. If I lost you – it would be like losing a part of myself. I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe, even if it kills me. I – I love you. I should have told you so much sooner. I should have told you that first night, because it was true. I’ve loved you since we met, and nothing will ever change that.”

“Cullen,” she reached up and brushed her hand along his cheek, letting his words sink in as she wiped his surprising tears off his skin. “I – I love you too. I’m yours. I always will be.”

When he kissed her it was tender, like his words.

When he took her, it was passionately, like a declaration of love.

When he whispered ‘you’re mine,’ she knew he meant ‘I love you.’

When he said ‘I love you,’ she knew he was saying ‘always and forever.’

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, and I really hope you enjoyed this piece!
> 
> This fic sat unfinished for a while, and I've finally decided that I am in fact concluding the story here. It feels like a nice, natural, sweet and happy place to end it. We don't necessarily need to see them go all the way through Inquisition together. Suffice it to say, they're established and loving throughout. There's no need to rehash the canon of the game, we all know it. And as far as everything with Samson goes, let's just say they have it out for him even more.
> 
> When I started this fic I didn't intend for it to go up to or through Inquisition, but I was having fun writing it and it sort of got away from me. And so now that I've let it sit for a while and have thought about it, ending it here is what I think is best. In the future if I get the urge to pick it back up or continue it, I might, but right now I have no plans to do such.
> 
> I hope that isn't too disappointing! Thank you for reading, truly, and I really appreciate all of the feedback that this fic got. It was a lot of fun to write. If you want more Cullen/Evelyn, the rest of the Lightning Struck series has plenty.
> 
> xx,  
> Lara


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